


Under the Tucson Sun

by Fanfic_or_bust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Airplanes, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christmas, First Kiss, First Time, Hardcore flirting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Storms, There's only One Bed!, airport shenanigans, open fic night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_or_bust/pseuds/Fanfic_or_bust
Summary: Love in an airport!A canon divergent AU where Patrick never came to Schitt's Creek, and David never got the store. They have both been feeling plagued by the strangest feeling that something isn't right, and book last minute trips to Mexico after each experiencing an unexpected life upheaval. Their trips are a bust but their fortunes change on the plane ride home when they find themselves seated next to each other and instantly hit it off. But when an unexpected storm hits forcing them into an emergency landing in Tucson, will that be the push they need to right the wrongs of fate and fall in love?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 79
Kudos: 267
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	Under the Tucson Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [altocleflife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altocleflife/gifts).



> Wow, so this is the first fic I've written in several months, and it ended up being a long one! To altocleflife, I hope you like what I've come up with! I loved your prompt so much! The fake dating is squint or your'll miss it, but I took that alternate first meeting idea and ran with it. And, *gasp*, there's only one bed! Also quite heavy on the mutual pining, and Christmas-themed! Oh, and smut ;) Thanks for the inspiration, and happy reading! (and sorry it's so long)
> 
> THE PROMPT: I love AUs, specifically fake dating. I’d also love to see more friends-turn-lovers or alternate first meetings out there. Pining and bed-sharing are big pluses. Especially since these will be posted in December, I’d love something holiday themed- Christmas and/or Hanukkah. I chose up to explicit, but it’s just an “if you want” not a requirement.

The neon light above him flickered, and David’s knee bounced impatiently. As he looked around the rundown airport, he tried not to take in the muffled but somehow still too-loud tune of _Feliz Navidad_ , which was playing for what felt like the hundredth time. But he’d left his earbuds out, not willing to risk missing his boarding announcement, and potentially miss his flight. As adequate as this vacation had been, he wasn’t quite sure he’d truly gotten what he’d needed from it, and he was ready to get back home.

_Home._ These days, that meant Schitt’s Creek. It wasn’t lost on David, that even in his private thoughts, he now thought of that place as home. But it was. Even if he shared a disgusting old motel room with his adult sister, his parents one unlockable door away. That was home. And his life, to his surprise, wasn't that bad. It already felt so much fuller and more _real_ than it had been, even without the wealth and privilege. And he was happy. _Almost._

He didn’t know what it was, couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His life felt fuller than it ever had before, when you considered all of the people he’d let into his heart since moving there. The occupancy limit of David’s heart had previously been set to 1: himself. Because anytime he tried to open it up and make space for someone else, he’d just get it injured. So what was the point? 

But since moving to Schitt’s creek, he’d let in Stevie, and then his sister, and eventually his parents, and he even found space in there to hold a fondness for the local cafe waitress, Twyla, and the mayor’s wife, Jocelyn. Fuck, David was finding it in himself to _enjoy the company of others_ , he was growing as a person, and he would have thought that with all the people he’d allowed into his heart as of late, that he wouldn’t feel this constant nagging sense of emptiness?

That’s what he’d gone to Mexico to figure out, and hopefully fix. There was a space inside him that couldn't be ignored any longer. It had begun as a twinge, just a hollow feeling, barely an ache. But it had grown to what felt like an ever present sucking chest wound, and David didn’t know what to do with it. It was like something was _wrong,_ something was _missing._ And the holiday season had seemed to be making it worse. 

In the past, sand and sun and unlimited all-inclusive margaritas had always helped clear his head. So when Christmas Town had shut down unexpectedly in early December (despite being right in the middle of the fucking Christmas season) and David had lost his much maligned cashier job, he’d impulsively booked a cheap 4-day package vacation to Cabo to get away from it all.

And in a way, the vacation had helped. He’d even made his mind up about something he’d been going back and forth on for months and months. A really big something that made him excited and nervous in all the right ways. When he’d finally decided on it, he’d been _sure_ that this would fix that feeling of unease that haunted him. And yet it had lingered. 

So if it wasn’t that, then _what was it?_ He’d been hoping to return to this airport newly refreshed, or at the very least restored to his _previous_ standard day-to-day levels of unease. Because maybe happiness and comfort just weren’t David’s baseline and were never in the cards for him. But it didn’t mean he had to feel _this_ badly, on a constant basis. It made David disappointed that he couldn’t even honestly say he was _any_ better, really, despite the expense and the ambiance and the life changing revelation he’d come to. And truly, if bottomless margaritas couldn’t fix his problems, could they even be fixed? 

And so he sat there, miserably, listening to slightly muffled Spanish Christmas carols, and waiting for his flight to be called so he could get the hell out of there and go back home. If what he was looking for wasn’t in Mexico, maybe he could find it there. Or not. Because honestly, if what he needed was in Schitt’s Creek, wouldn’t he have found it by now?

Time seemed to crawl by, as David looked around the small and dated departure terminal. He’d already visited the small convenience store and the coffee had been spectacularly terrible, with nary a cocoa powder shaker in sight. Being just past 8am, the small bar wasn’t open, and thus David was painfully sober. As he sat there, sipping his cocoaless coffee, he tried to will his eyes to glaze over and move past the tacky decorations that seemed strewn about in an almost haphazard manner. Honestly, whoever was responsible for the holiday decor in that place was being paid too much. _I mean, what even *is* the aesthetic?_ he wondered. 

It was an utter relief when his flight was announced and David, unused as he was to flying with _coach_ tickets, had gotten up right away to board. It was with more than a little embarrassment that he was notified of his need to wait for business class to finish boarding first, before they would call for the next sections. David wasn’t even in the first coach section to board. He’d have to wait until the very end, as he had an aisle seat towards the back of the plane. _Not even a window seat._ He thought to himself, miserably, as he tried to casually make his way back to the seats in the waiting area, hoping no one else had noticed his mistake. He pulled out his phone and buried his face in it immediately, doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone around.

When it was finally his turn, David was first in line. He was _so_ ready to get out of that fucking airport, and he thought if he ever heard _Feliz Navidad_ or _Donde Esta Santa Claus_ ever again, he may just burst an embalism right on the spot. He hoped that whoever he sat next to wasn’t creepy looking, or didn’t smell bad, or worse, have a _wet cough_ . And that they wouldn’t want to _talk._ More than anything, David just wanted to be left alone so he could fall asleep and escape the pervasive unease he couldn’t shake, even just for a few hours. 

As he boarded, he had to stop to wait several times, for people to stop loitering in the aisles and to finish putting their items in the overhead compartments. Little by little, he made his way to the very back of the plane, where he quickly deposited his carry-on in the overhead compartment, and then flopped down into his chair. Enviously, he turned his eye toward the empty window seat next to him, and hoped against hope that no one would come to claim it. Then he’d be able to sit next to the window _and_ spread out a little. But would he be that lucky?

No, of course he wasn’t. After just a couple of minutes, a large and unpleasant looking woman stopped right next to David. He looked up at her with not just a little bit of apprehension, which he hoped didn’t show on his face but probably did, and tried to smile but accomplished more of a grimace. “Hi.” He said, wondering if she was going to say anything _do_ anything except just stand there and gape at him like some slack jawed yokel. 

“That’s my seat.” She said, rather rudely for a flight heading back to _Canada,_ and David furrowed his brow. He’d said _hello_ , could it kill her to exchange pleasantries? They were going to be stuck next to each other on this Godforsaken flight for the next who-knew-how-many hours, after all. When it became clear she wasn’t going to ask him politely to move, or if she could sneak by, or say _anything else,_ really, David got awkwardly to his feet. He was just about to squeeze past her into the aisle to let her by, when a handsome man stepped in behind her, and held up his ticket a little awkwardly, with a charming smile.

“Actually, I think that’s my seat. You must be on the other side.” The stranger said, but David could barely hear him over the rushing of blood in his ears. His heart was pounding, relief and excitement shooting thought him like a shot of adrenaline, and he knew he probably looked like an _idiot,_ so he did his best to hold back his smile. He failed miserably. 

The _cutest guy_ had just swooped in to save him from that troll-person, like some gallant knight. Though he wore dark-wash midrange denim and a dark blue button-up Oxford shirt, tucked into a _very incorrect_ brown braided leather belt, instead of shining armour. Seriously, everything about his ensemble was wrong, David thought, so why was it hitting all the right buttons for him? 

Suddenly, David was forgetting what he’d previously wanted, which was to be left alone so he could fall asleep and dissociate from all his problems. Suddenly, all David could think of was that this guy who was about to sit down next to him was by far the cutest guy on the plane, and he really hoped his hair wasn’t messed up and that he still smelled fresh despite hours of travelling already. 

As the lady made her way to the back and around to the empty window seat on the other side, David was left staring into the wide, amber-brown eyes of his hero, and he couldn’t help the nervous, almost _goofy_ smile that spread over his lips. The man was smiling back at him, their eyes locked, and the softest little grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, though it looked like he was trying to bite it back.

The silence stretched on for a moment too long, and David didn’t know how it had happened. It was like he’d become entranced in those honey brown eyes and time had stopped all together. Except it hadn’t, and the seconds were dragging on, and it was going to get awkward soon. David was just thinking he should probably say something, when the stranger spoke. “Hi.” He said, his voice this sort of soft low rasp that took David’s breath away. David felt his smile try to break free, so he twisted it around and bit down on the inside of his cheek. When he thought he had his facial muscles under control, he opened his mouth to reply.

“Hi back.” He said, and _Ugh. Hi back?_ What was he, a fourteen year old girl? What was wrong with him? David had been around models and A-list celebrities and not fallen to bits around them, and one guy in Costco jeans and a braided belt had him losing all his cool? He had to chalk it up to being off his game, after years in Schitt’s Creek. Although, he’d managed to play it cooler than this with Jake, so he didn’t know if that excuse really held much water. 

“So, uh, that’s me.” The stranger said, nodding his head toward the seat next to David, and then returning his eyes to David’s own and smiling apologetically. And suddenly, David felt his entire body switch into gear.

“Oh! Of course! Hold on--let me--” David awkwardly slid past the stranger and into the aisle, their bodies brushing for the briefest of moments, and David felt his heart swell with the thrill of it. And then the man placed his hand on David’s arm, possibly in an attempt to brace himself for balance as he squeezed by. But also possibly in an attempt to show _interest_ in David. It was a tried and tested move, David had employed it to great success many times. A casual hand on an arm here, a playful knee slap there. Before you know it, you’re making out on the deck of someone’s boat and you can’t find where you left your underwear. 

Except they were on a plane, not a boat, and in the back of the _coach_ section, at that. And also, the guy just needed to squeeze by. Leave it to David to see _one_ cute guy and then start fantasizing about fucking him.

Except the weird thing? Yeah, sure David wanted to fuck him. The guy was hot, but in this delectably cute way that just made you want to debauch him and show him all the ways of carnal pleasure. It was something about the cherubic innocence of that face. But something about the glint in his eye told David he wasn’t a _total_ innocent, and he liked that. But that wasn’t the weird thing. The weird thing was that, yes, David wanted to do those things. But he _also_ had this completely baffling impulse to *cuddle* the stranger. To hug his arm and lay his head on his shoulder, and share a bowl of popcorn as they watched the Sandra Bullock vehicle of David’s choice. He imagined himself eating breakfast with him, or going for a Sunday drive to Elmdale for groceries.

_What the fuck?_

David was getting _way_ ahead of himself. Like _way, way_ ahead of himself. Like farther ahead than he’d literally gotten with any real human being. So what the fuck was his brain doing, conjuring such wild and outlandish scenarios? 

More than a little horrified with himself, David sat back down into his seat once the stranger seemed settled. David was shook, and lost in his head, when the stranger turned in his seat beside him, and jostled him out of his reverie. All of a sudden, there was a hand being thrust in David’s direction, and the stranger was smiling with bright, shining eyes. 

“Hi, I’m Patrick.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Patrick couldn’t believe his luck. He’d had the vacation from hell, he’d already been dreading the flight because he hated flying, and he had fully expected to end up sitting next to some mouth breather who reeked of B.O. and had brought hard boiled eggs for lunch, or something. Because _that_ would follow the pattern of Patrick’s life recently much more closely than something _good_ happening, like being seated to a normal looking, cute guy. And yet here he was, seat 36A, and 36B was already occupied by the most captivating stranger who was currently looking up at a truly unpleasant looking woman with a completely horrified expression his face, and it made Patrick chuckle.

And, okay, wait. Did Patrick just think of this guy as _cute?_

_Yes,_ Patrick thought, forcing himself to be honest with himself, _he is very cute. You can admit it._ He was trying his hardest to stop running from hard or uncomfortable truths, but it was a hard reflex to untrain. Running and hiding and suppressing and denying. _Those_ were Patrick Brewer’s strengths. Also, he had an excellent batting average and a wicked arm that could throw straight to home plate from centre field. But mostly the repression stuff. So he was trying to get over it, trying to live a more honest life. 

That was a large part of why he’d gone on this vacation. Because he was being honest with himself, and he knew that if he stayed home in Winnipeg after his recent (and hopefully final) break-up with Rachel, that he’d end up falling back in with her. Like always. So technically, he was still sort of running away from his problems, but he tried not to think of it like that. He told himself he was being smart, and pragmatic. Because they couldn’t get back together, they just _couldn’t._

It wouldn’t be fair to Rachel _or_ Patrick. 

Because Patrick was… he still couldn’t say it. He didn’t know why. It still just felt wrong, like a jacket he wanted to wear but didn’t fit right in the shoulders. Almost a perfect fit, and yet… not. But even if he couldn’t _say_ he was gay, he could at least admit that he’d been suspecting that might be part of his problem for a while. It wasn’t that he’d found a guy he was really into or anything and he’d come to some major revelation, it was just a gradual understanding that slowly dawned over him, that the piece that was missing from his and Rachel’s relationship was _attraction._

Sure, he thought she was beautiful. But that wasn’t the same thing as being _attracted_ to her. And he didn’t know how many failed attempts at sex he was supposed to endure, before he finally admitted the problem. Rachel had become convinced the problem was with his dick, and her patience and compassion made him love her so much, but he knew that wasn’t the problem. He wasn’t impotent. He just wasn’t into her. Or women at all. In fact, in the past couple years, the only time Patrick could get off completely, was when he thought about men. Not any particular men, in fact they were usually faceless in his fantasies. But their bodies were most _definitely_ male.

The bottom line was, the female form just wasn’t doing a single thing for him anymore, despite spending years trying to make it work for Rachel’s sake. He used to get by just fine, and their sex life had been completely adequate. But as the years passed, things had slowly begun to change, and after Patrick all but got offered a dream job in Toronto (he was headed to the final in-person interview in two days), he knew it was time to stop pushing what obviously could never be fixed. His sexuality seemed to be an immovable object, and no matter how much he pushed, it would obstinately refuse to let him fake it any longer. 

So after he found out about the likely job offer in Toronto (this interview was more of a formality at this point), and Rachel had started talking about moving to the big city with him, he knew it was time to end things for good. It was awful. Rachel had cried for so long, not understanding. She tried to reason with him, to convince him, but he’d stayed firm, although he didn’t know how long he could keep holding out. And so, with just over a week to go before the Toronto interview, Patrick had decided to get out of Dodge and book a cheap Mexico vacation (it was the first package deal that came up on Expedia.ca) to fill the meantime.

The thought was, that he could escape the guilt-driven temptation to get back together with Rachel, and give himself some much needed time to think. Because he had a _lot_ to think about. In fact, he’d been kind of hoping that this trip would solve all his problems, that he would leave the country one person, and magically just come back entirely another. Although it seemed like those hopes hadn’t come to fruition on _this_ vacation at least. 

The entire thing had been an unmitigated disaster, from his first terrifying cattle-car flight there, to the bumpy sweaty bus ride to the resort, to the rain that had plagued his first few days there, and then the awful case of food poisoning he’d contracted right after the rain cleared up. Add to that that he’d lost his nerve to visit the gay bar that had been half the reason he’d chosen this resort in the first place, and the entire trip had been a complete waste of money and time.

Except… he hadn’t gotten back together with Rachel. And now there was this really cute guy he’d get to sit next to for the entire flight to Pearson in Toronto. So maybe it hadn’t been a _total_ disaster, after all. 

As Patrick squeezed past the dark haired and expressive stranger, an impulse overcame him, and he placed his hand on the man’s arm. It was ostensibly for balance as he moved by, except that Patrick hadn’t needed to do it. He’d _wanted_ to do it. And he’d done it. He fucking _did_ it. And it felt good to follow his desires for once. To do something he wanted to do, rather than think about it from every angle until the opportunity had passed. This guy was bizarrely alluring, and Patrick wanted to touch him. It was the kind of take-charge action that he wasn’t typically known for, but for some reason, in this moment, with this guy, it felt right. 

The man’s arm was firm and warm, and the black sweater he wore was possibly the softest thing Patrick had ever felt. He didn’t want to let go. He left his hand there probably a second or two longer than he should have, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go. And the man wasn’t pulling away either. The moment seemed to stretch in time, but sadly, Patrick had to let go, and he made his way to his seat.

When they were both settled and sitting, Patrick took a deep breath to quiet the riotous kaleidoscope of butterflies threatening to erupt out of his stomach, and then turned to offer his hand to the handsome stranger (who he hoped wouldn’t be a stranger for much longer). “Hi, I’m Patrick.” He said, and then ignored the ringing in his ears as he waited for the man to react. 

There was a long beat that passed where the man just stared at the hand Patrick had offered him, like he wasn’t expecting it and he didn’t know what to do with it. His face showed a wide range of expressions, none of which Patrick could really read, but he found that he _wanted_ to be able to read them. To understand what those little twitches, or his pursed lips that twisted to the side, or the furrowing of his brow _meant._ And wasn’t that a little weird? Patrick didn’t even _know_ him, and yet he _wanted_ to. 

Nothing like this had ever happened before in his life, with another person. It was like there was a magnetic pull between them, and Patrick was helpless against it. He’d truly never before been so instantly _drawn_ to someone else, for no discernable reason. Because this guy could be a complete douchebag, for all Patrick knew. He was still a complete stranger. Except Patrick didn’t think he _was_ going to end up being a douchebag. It was just a feeling in his gut. 

The moment stretched, and then finally decision seemed to firm on the stranger’s face and he took Patrick’s hand. As he did, sparks shot up his arm and to his heart, setting the butterflies into flight again. “David.” The man said, and Patrick smiled, sending out a little thank-you to fate or karma or God, or whatever was responsible for Patrick being assigned seat 36A. 

“Nice to meet you, David.” Patrick replied, aware of how hoarse and soft the words had come out, but unable to do anything about it at that point. He felt a blush rise in his cheeks and ears, and David smiled back at him with eyes that shone and dimples that popped in his cheeks. And for a second, Patrick felt lost, overcome by attraction to this man. He was just so incredibly _beautiful_. His eyes drank in his features and got lost in his eyes for an embarrassingly long time, and yet there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it. As the moment stretched, it became awkward, but still somehow cute. Probably because David looked adorable when he was embarrassed. Patrick found himself wanting to make that expression happen on this man’s face, again and again. 

What the hell was going on? Patrick assessed the strange feelings and sensations rushing through himself, and he came to a startling conclusion. If he was truly being honest, at that moment, possibly for the first time in his entire life, Patrick felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

_And wasn’t that pretty fucked up?_ Shouldn’t he be more alarmed? Patrick was supposed to be a rational, patient, _careful_ kind of guy. His entire life, his temperment had run to an even keeled calmness. Emotions had never been a big factor in his decision making, because Patrick liked when solutions made logical sense. But right now, nothing made sense. He didn’t know David, they were from different places probably, completely different worlds. All they were to each other were strangers sitting next to each other on a plane, and the logical thing would be to leave this guy alone. He already had a neck pillow and eye mask pulled out and ready to go, hooked over the arm of the chair he sat on. He obviously wanted to go to sleep and be left alone. 

And yet Patrick’s _gut_ was telling him ‘ _talk to him’_ . It was screaming it, really. Like not taking the opportunity to talk to this complete stranger would be the biggest mistake of his entire life. Patrick really, truly was not the type of person to follow his gut over his head, especially when his gut was telling him such crazy things. But he had also gone to Mexico hoping to come back a changed person, a new person. He’d thought the trip hadn’t worked… but maybe it had? Maybe _new_ Patrick was up for taking chances, going out of his comfort zone. 

Or maybe he was just losing his fucking mind. Who knew? But Patrick was going to go for it. And really… what did he have to lose?

Once again their touch lingered for far too long, though eventually David had let go of Patrick’s hand, and then turned away, smiling tightly, his brow furrowed. He seemed embarrassed, almost like the extended handshake was _his_ fault, and not Patrick’s. Patrick felt a twinge of amusement at the corner of his mouth. David was _flustered,_ and Patrick loved to see him like that. 

For a long moment, Patrick continued to look at David, while he looked straight ahead at the chair in front of him, and then down at his hands, apparently inspecting his cuticles. He seemed nervous, or uncomfortable, or _something._ For a second, Patrick worried that he’d come on too strong, that David had had enough already, and didn’t want to keep conversing. And suddenly Patrick’s head was screaming “BACK OFF” so loudly he could barely think of anything else. Panicking, Patrick straightened out and leaned back into his chair, pressing his head against the headrest. 

Patrick sat there for maybe a minute or two, and for some reason the silence felt oppressive. His head seemed to be having a war with his gut (or was it his heart?) about what to do. Should he back off, like every single other pair of strangers sitting next to each other on this plane? He’d made sure his phone and his laptop were fully charged and ready to escape into, if need be, and he had a copy of the most recent issue of Maclean’s if he got sick of staring at a screen. He’d been fully expecting to sit here, ignoring the person next to him, and having no inkling whatsoever to want to talk to them. Why would he?

But he _did._ He _did_ want to talk to David. Because David was gorgeous, and captivating and magnetic and intriguing. And somehow, Patrick knew all that after an acquaintance that had lasted about three minutes total. But it was enough. Three minutes was enough to know. Patrick wanted to talk to David, and that’s what he was going to do.

He took a deep breath, and turned back to David. 

“So, my trip sucked. How ‘bout yours?” He asked, hoping to break the ice and spark up a conversation. It was true, his trip had sucked. And he kind of found himself wanting to talk about it. Would David want to listen?

David looked back at him, and he looked pensive for a moment, like he was thinking hard, working something out. And then his expression softened, and then twisted into this slightly bashful, embarrassed look that Patrick found instantly endearing. “Oh, umm, I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t what I was looking for, but I wasn’t sharing a dirty motel room with my sister, one door away from my parents. So I don’t know that I can say it sucked.” He replied, making a face and shrugging.

Patrick chuckled, and a silence fell. A motel room? With his sister and parents? Surely this guy was in his 30s, how did any of that make sense? David was wearing what appeared to be an extremely expensive designer outfit, that seemed incongruous to the story he’d just told. Patrick was instantly intrigued. 

“And what were you looking for?” He asked, the words exiting his brain through his mouth before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. He’d _meant_ to ask about the motel situation, and this had just slipped out. His eyes widened, as he realized that what he’d asked was far too personal for someone he’d just met on a plane 5 minutes ago. He didn’t know why he’d just said it, and he wished he could claw the words back into his mouth. “don’t-- you don’t have to answer that. I don’t know why I asked that, actually. That was embarrassing, I’m sorry about that.” He stammered, trying to erase the damage he’d done. 

David looked at him for a long second, like he was trying to figure Patrick out. But then once again, his expression softened, and a slight but distinctly amused smile appeared on his lips. “No, it’s fine. I don’t actually know, though? I thought I might be able to figure it out here, like, do some soul searching and realign my chi, or something? But I didn’t, and it’s fine, so…” 

“I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for.” Patrick said, once again his words coming out far too earnest and vulnerable. He heard the soft rasp in his own voice, felt his chest vibrate. His voice always tended to go lower and more raspy, when he was speaking from the heart. But now wasn’t exactly the most convenient time for that…

Their eyes remained connected for several seconds after Patrick stopped speaking, and David’s smile twisted to the side and he gave Patrick a small shrug. “It’s fine. What about you? What’s your story? Was your trip for business or pleasure? By the looks of your _finely_ pressed and starched shirt, I am assuming business?” David asked, and Patrick couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, and then he shook his head.

“Neither?” He answered, his voice turning up in question at the end. David’s eyes narrowed fractionally. 

“Family, then?” David suggested, and Patrick smiled sadly and shook his head, quickly considering how much he wanted to share with his seatmate. Would hearing about Rachel and their breakup ruin any chances of a flirty flight home? Would David assume that he was straight? Or that he was damaged goods, or that it was too soon after the breakup to consider other people?

“Nah, actually I was _hoping_ it would be for pleasure, but it just kind of ended up--”

“ _Sucking?_ ” David supplied, and Patrick smiled a little sadly and nodded.

“Exactly. I was looking to do a little soul searching or chi realignment myself, actually. But--” 

“It didn’t exactly work out for you either? Yeah, as it turns out Cabo isn’t some magical place that solves all of one’s problems by the simple act of running away from them.” David said facetiously, shrugging dramatically. “Who knew?” He added, and Patrick grinned. He was so taken with everything about David, from the way he spoke to the way he looked to the way every little emotion played itself across his face and body language, that he almost forgot to say anything in reply.

“Yeah,” Patrick finally replied, fumbling through all the thoughts he _couldn’t_ say, searching for one that he _could_ . Because what he wanted to say was ‘but the trip wasn’t all bad, because now I’m sitting next to you now’, but he could never so brazenly hit on someone else, let alone a guy, let alone this _one particular guy_ who seemed to just be made of magnets, from the way Patrick felt uncontrollably drawn to him. No, he couldn’t hit on him. But, Patrick thought, he could talk to him. He could tell him the truth. Well, _most_ of the truth. Because there were some details David didn’t need to know about, right away. Like Patrick’s struggles with and now dawning realizations about his sexual orientation. 

“Although, it kept me away from home and that was kind of the whole point. So I guess you could say the trip was a success, in that regard.” He finally said, deciding to go with the truth. Generally speaking, honesty was always the best policy. When lying could be avoided.

“Ah, so you’re a _runaway_?” David asked with a small tight smile, his eyes narrowed as they seemed to appraise Patrick. Patrick chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He concurred, wobbling his head a little bit in agreement.

“Well, I love a good story, and you’re stuck with me for the next five hours whether you like it or not, so.” David said, his smile pulling at his cheeks and causing dimples to pop. Patrick felt his own smile widen, and he may have visibly _swooned._ He hoped not, because that would be embarrassing. But it was a possibility.

“Is it too late to change my seat?” Patrick joked, and then immediately panicked that David wouldn’t know he was kidding. Although, to his great relief, David laughed, and then his smile tightened and twisted, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, no. You’re stuck with me.” David replied, his voice turned a little soft as he joked back. Patrick laughed and ducked his head, looking up at David through his lashes.

“Damn.” He said, smirking at David and making sure he knew he was still joking. 

There was another long pause, as the two of them got lost in the magnetic eye contact, both of them apparently forgetting to continue speaking for just a little while. Eventually, David seemed to notice, and he chuckled and shook his head. “So are you going to tell me the story, or are you going to wait until we’re somewhere over Saskatchewan?” He asked, but Patrick still hadn’t decided how much of the truth he wanted to tell, so he decided to stall just a little bit longer. Besides, it was so much fun teasing David. He knew that already. 

“Are you sure this plane’s flightpath goes over Saskatchewan?” He asked, his voice turning up skeptically at the end, and raising his eyebrows. David scowled and blushed, his brows furrowing in consternation, and Patrick smiled in satisfaction, having gotten the reaction he had been hoping for. 

“Okay, no, I’m not sure. But I had to say _somewhere_ , and I’m 87% sure we are flying somewhere at least in the _vicinity_ of Saskatchewan.” David replied, his voice rising defensively. Patrick chuckled, completely charmed and his attraction towards the stranger rising by the minute. 

“And how many kilometers constitutes a _vicinity?_ ” Patrick asked, needling David just a little bit more, and was rewarded with a frustrated sigh. 

“I don’t know! And I’ll have you know, the more you avoid telling me this story, the more I want to hear it.” David replied, his voice now very high and bordering on shrill. Patrick loved it. He was completely smitten, already. He held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I give in. But are you sure you want to know? There’s not much to tell, and it’s a pretty boring story, and I’m sure you’ve got better things--”  
  


“Spit it out, Patrick.” David said, surprising a laugh out of Patrick, and he shrugged in reply. 

“Your call.” He said, pausing and taking a breath. “Alright, so basically…” Patrick paused, how did he want to put this? “Basically, I was engaged, and--”

“Wait, _basically_ you were engaged?” David interrupted, calling him out on his attempt to downplay that little thing that was his engagement to Rachel.

“Okay, I _was_ , but I didn’t want to be. Not to them.” Patrick left out Rachel’s pronoun on purpose, letting David think what he wanted. Because, really, he could tell this story without disclosing Rachel’s gender, right? Unless he was questioned directly, in which case he would answer truthfully. Probably. 

“Juicy, was there a pool boy and a shoe full of expired coke involved? Because if so, I’ve heard this story.” David cut in, once again making Patrick laugh. He shook his head.

“Pool boy: no. Shoe full of coke: Also no.” Patrick chuckled. “No, my story is a lot more boring than that, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Running away from an engagement to Mexico all by yourself? Colour me intrigued.” David replied, his eyes bright, and he leaned his elbow on his crossed knee and rested his chin on his hand, twisting to look at Patrick. A rapt audience. “Did you run away _with_ someone, or have you been alone this whole time?” He added, and was Patrick imagining it, or was there a little _hope_ laced throughout those words? Did David want him to be alone?

“Yeah, just me. I just, I didn’t want to propose in the first place, but there was all this pressure, and the problem is, I really care about them. Just…”

“Not in the ‘I want to marry you’ kind of way?” Patrick nodded enthusiastically.

“Exactly. We’d broken up so many times, and after we got back together one time we were talking about marriage, and they-- I sort of felt pressured into it. Plus, it’s not like I was 20 anymore. It was time. Except it wasn’t right, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more-- _itchy?_ \-- I felt in my own skin. I needed to get out. And then I got this job opportunity in Toronto, and they started talking about moving there with me, and it was suddenly clear to me. I wanted to go alone. I didn’t want to be married, and I didn’t want them to go with me.” Patrick paused, and looked at David to gauge his reaction. He looked… rapt. 

“And where does Mexico come in?” David asked, when it was clear Patrick was done speaking. Patrick shrugged and smiled awkwardly. 

“The runaway part, as you put it, I guess. The final interview for the Toronto job is the day after tomorrow, although I already pretty much have an offer. This is more to meet the senior management team in person, and get a tour of the office. As long as it goes well, I’ll be staying. And I broke it off with my ex about a week and a half ago, so I had to kill the time between. And frankly, I just wanted remove the possibility that I’d get back together with my ex because I felt guilty for hurting them. Because I do. And I’ve done it before. So I just thought-- I just thought I should leave town for a while, and--”

“Run away?” David supplied, with no hint of judgement in his voice. The impression Patrick got was just that he wanted to clarify. 

“Pretty much. Plus, I had some personal stuff to work out, and this seemed as good a place as any…”

“I’ve been _there._ ” David replied, frowning at Patrick sympathetically. “Did the trip help at all?” 

“With the personal stuff? No. But I made it to today and we haven’t talked and aren’t back together. So at least there’s that.” Patrick replied, trying to sound nonchalant, and not let David know how deeply disappointed in himself he was. He hadn’t even _tried._ And he’d been at a _resort that had a thriving gay bar._ He’d been too scared, not ready to face what he knew to be true about himself. 

As if sensing Patrick’s sudden shift in mood, David gave him another sympathetic look before reaching his hand out and placing it on Patrick’s knee. Instantly, warm tendrils shot up and down his leg, from the white hot heat of David’s hand, and he felt his dick twitch at the proximity. “I’m sorry you didn’t find what you’re looking for.” He said, and Patrick couldn’t help it. He sighed and dropped his head, before looking up at David through his lashes once more.

“Thank-you, David.” He said, his voice raw and serious, as he covered David’s hand with his own. 

It was a bold move, but not one that Patrick couldn’t walk back from, if it was taken the wrong way. It could be passed off as a friendly gesture, if need be. But it felt anything _but_ that. Patrick felt his heartbeat echo through his body, and he became aware of every feeling and sensation he was having, as time slowed down and he waited for… something. He wasn’t exactly sure what. For David to pull away, or seem weirded out by the whole thing, probably. Except, that didn’t happen. 

They seemed locked in each other’s gazes, for how long he had no idea. And David made no move to pull his hand free, and Patrick made no move to release it. He felt the entire kaleidoscope of butterflies beating at his insides, and the scorching heat of David’s hand on him, causing his dick to get harder by the second. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest, and he watched as this shy smile that had twisted to the side of David’s handsome face seemed to soften, his expressive brows raising slightly, his eyes turn from bright and shining to something softer… but still shiny. 

_This is it,_ Patrick thought, hardly able to keep his nerves in check _You can do it._ He encouraged himself. _Your hand is already right there touching his, just curl your fingers, and take it._ He wanted to do it. God did he want to do it! So maybe… he could? 

For some reason, David’s presence, as brief as it had been in his life thus far, had given him this feeling like anything was possible. That maybe he could be capable of things he had never thought himself capable. So maybe he was capable of holding David’s hand. Making that first move. Taking charge, as foreign a concept as that was to him when it came to his dating life. 

He took a breath. This was it--

“ _Alright, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Air Canada flight 213 nonstop from--”_ Fuck! The pilot’s announcement startled him, causing Patrick to jerk his hand away from David, who then withdrew his. He missed the warmth immediately. Because in the place of where that warmth had been was now a chill, that crawled up him and twisted inside his gut. Because not only had he been interrupted from something important with David, but he’d also been reminded that he was on a _plane._

His stomach turned just at the thought of it. David had _completely_ distracted him, but now he remembered. Patrick really, truly hated flying, and only put himself through it when it was the most necessary and there were no other options. And leaving home had _been_ his only option. _Just BREATHE, Brewer!_ He urged himself, but already he felt the fear sinking in. Take-off and landing were the worst parts. Usually, he was okay when they got to cruising altitude, but first he’d have to survive the take-off. He gripped the arm of his chair tightly, swallowed, and tried to ignore the bead of sweat he felt dripping down from his temple. Beside him, David watched with concern. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Holy fuck, I could get lost in his eyes forever._ David realized, as he felt paralyzed and pinned in place by Patrick’s gaze. David had impulsively placed a (ostensibly friendly) hand on Patrick’s knee, intending to flirt a little, but not in the least expecting Patrick to cover his hand with his own. And then just… leave it there. So there they were. Two strangers on a plane, experiencing one of the most insanely intense instant connections possibly in the history of mankind. Just staring into one another’s eyes, and basically holding hands. He was basically starring in his own romantic comedy, complete with meet-cute and two very attractive leads. _Was this real life?_

Just when David started wondering if he should maybe lean in and kiss Patrick, or turn his hand over and lace their fingers together, or _something_ , they were interrupted. Because of course they were. “ _Alright ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Air Canada flight 213 non-stop from--”_ Fuck! David wanted to scream, or maybe whip out his phone right there and write this airline a very _carefully_ worded Google Review. Because Patrick had pulled his hand away, and David was left with no recourse but to remove his own. 

David listened to the announcement, dejected, and tried not to think of what could have been with Patrick just then, and not focus too much on how he could get them back to that point. When the pilot finished speaking, a safety video began playing on the screen in front of him, and David tried to watch, but felt his attention wandering. He missed when the airline attendants used to give the presentation themselves. He missed when he got to fly private jets instead, and he didn’t have to watch this stuff at all. He let himself peek over at Patrick, who… wasn’t looking so good, all of a sudden. _Huh?_

Patrick stared straight ahead, a razor focus on the safety video in front of him, his jaw tight and as David watched, a bead of sweat dropped down his temple. David’s mind raced to explain the sudden change in Patrick, searching for some way to possibly fix it, and suddenly he was struck by a thought. _What if Patrick was sick?_

A wave of revulsion washed over David, making him want to crawl out of his seat and his skin itself. Nothing made him more queasy than being stuck in confined spaces (specifically planes) with sick people. Even super _hot_ sick people. One time, he’d forced Matt Bomer to move seats on an international flight back from Prague, just because he sneezed once. He’d claimed something had just tickled his nose, but David hadn’t been willing to take that kind of chance. 

And yet… something was different, about Patrick. He wasn’t a gorgeous multi-millionaire movie star (though he was pretty gorgeous), and David didn’t even know if he was gay (or into guys), and yet David had this bizarre impulse to _comfort_ Patrick, rather than recoil in horror. That was _not_ normal. 

Looking down, David saw that Patrick was gripping the arm of his seat so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. “Are you… okay?” He asked, unable to stop himself and surprised at how genuine his concern felt. And it wasn’t even concern for _himself,_ it was concern for Patrick. And that was just… very off-brand for David. What the hell happened to him in Mexico?

Patrick turned to look at him, clearly trying to relax his face into something less terrified looking, but not really succeeding. He smiled tightly at David. “Yeah, yeah, I’m-I’m good.” He said, nodding way too much, and David furrowed his brows in concern. 

“Okay, except you look like I did the time I let Amanda Bynes drive me to the airport, and she ended up going the wrong way down the interstate.” As David watched, Patick leaned his head back against his seat and pressed it there firmly as he took a deep breath, before turning back to David, his expression now resigned. 

“I don’t exactly love flying.” He admitted sheepishly, and David felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. He didn’t mean to smile or make light of Patrick’s obviously intense fear, but he couldn’t help it. Patrick was _cute._

“Well, I can tell you that they’re a much safer form of transportation than just about anything else. I’ve flown about a thousand times, and I’m still here.” David replied, and felt something warm spread in his chest as a small smile appeared on Patrick’s face.

“I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. I’ll be fine, really. I just need to get through takeoff.” Patrick said, still smiling, though his wide glassy eyes betrayed just how frightened he still was. David frowned.

“Well I have a xanax, if you want one. Or maybe just a gravol, to help you sleep?” He offered, searching his brain for a way to help Patrick, but only coming up with pharmaceuticals. To be fair, that _was_ usually his go-to solution for any issues regarding stress or anxiety or depression, or really just any uncomfortable feelings in general, really. In his head, he did a quick tally of how many of the little white pills he had left. Since losing his Christmas Town drug benefits plan, it wouldn’t be as easy to refill, next time. But no, he had plenty. Besides, if this would help Patrick, he wanted to do it.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay, I promise.” Patrick replied, a little tightly. “I really do appreciate it, though.”

“Oh, no--no problem.” David stammered back, smiling a little awkwardly and trying not to think about how their hands had touched, and how he wanted to do it again. But Patrick didn’t move to hold David’s hand again. No, in fact, he folded his hands together tightly on his lap, and adjusted himself to look straight ahead, a determined and focused expression painted across his face. So, not knowing what more to say, David followed Patrick’s lead and straightened out and sat back in his chair, very conscious of how much elbow room he was taking up and how Patrick wasn’t using the armrest at all, completely missing the opportunity for a casual (sensual?) elbow touch. David tried not to pout, as he wondered whether he’d gotten a totally bad read on Patrick’s preferences, after all. 

Not long later, the plane began to move down the runway and soon they were in the air without incident. Patrick had stayed quiet the entire time, and although David felt he couldn’t turn to look at him (he didn’t want to embarrass him, and he clearly didn’t need or want help), he had definitely felt his tension, and heard him let out a large held breath when the initial takeoff was over, and then again when the seatbelt lights turned off. Only then, did David feel him relax next to him. But by that point, so much time and silence had stretched between them, he’d felt his confidence ebb more and more by the minute, and he didn’t think it would go back to flowing any time soon. They’d now been quiet for longer than they’d been talking, so David supposed they were back to being strangers. It made him sad, but resigned, he started to tap his way through the various menus on the screen in front of him, hoping to find something good to watch that might distract him and help the time go faster. 

He’d just about given up hope of ever talking to Patrick again, when about 5 minutes into the episode of House Hunters he’d found in the HGTV menu, Patrick had leaned right into David’s space. “I’ve seen this one.” He said, surprising David, who pulled the earbud out of his right ear, so he could hear him better. And he was _right there,_ there was barely a few inches between their faces. David was too startled to respond right away, and he felt his eyebrows doing _something_ expressive, which made Patrick chuckle, and he continued. “It’s the one where two people with very modest sounding jobs tour three mansions they shouldn’t be able to afford with even triple their annual salaries, and end up picking the most expensive one.”

David wanted to laugh, because Patrick was funny, but instead, he felt a smirk slowly twist on his face, and he narrowed his eyes and nodded his head slightly. “Mmhm, that’s correct.” The words came out a little more--sultry?--than he’d expected, he’d been going for sassy, but it had definitely come out as seductive. He felt his stomach flip with nerves as he waited for Patrick’s reaction. Would he be scared away? 

But he wasn’t, and David’s stomach flipped again, but for a different, much better and exciting reason, when Patrick smiled brightly. “Wanna watch together?” He asked, and David bit his lip and nodded nervously, picturing them leaned in together, sharing a set of headphones, watching shows or movies together the rest of the way back to Toronto. It was almost too good to be true. Which, of course, was why Patrick leaned away then, and began tapping through his own monitor’s menus, finding first ‘HGTV’, and then ‘Househunters’, and then finally turning to David. “Which one did you choose?”

“Here, let me--” David said with a smile, quickly shaking off his momentary disappointment, and Patrick leaned back to allow David the space to reach across and find the episode he’d chosen. It didn’t take long, he’d selected it because the guy in the preview was really hot, and those brown eyes jumped out at him right away. He’d always had a thing for brown eyed boys. 

A few moments passed, with them laughing as they tried to sync up their episodes just right. Eventually though they’d managed to hit play at the same time, and their episodes had played in synchronicity, side by side, and both David and Patrick had left out the earphone between them, so they could lean over and make funny or sarcastic remarks, roasting the affluent (and beautiful couple) on everything from their false modesty to their terrible taste. 

When the first episode had ended, they’d put on another, and by the third, they were talking so much with each other that the show just played unnoticed in the background. David was learning so much about Patrick. About his family, his job, his sense of humour, his likes and dislikes. And David found he didn’t dislike anything he was hearing. Which was… unexpected. His usual MO any time he found someone he vaguely liked, was to pick them apart looking for flaws. Reasons not to care when it eventually ended badly. But somehow, he didn’t seem to be doing that with Patrick. He was just… enjoying himself. And he was even opening up a little in return. 

He told Patrick about the day that Rev Canada came barreling into their life, about losing the money and starting over in Schitt’s Creek. He told him about his family and the people there, especially Stevie. He told him about how he’d once thought about leasing the General Store in town and the plans he'd had for it, but that he had gotten cold feet and Christmas Town ended up opening instead. He told him that now that Christmas Town had failed, that he was thinking about the store again.

“You have to do it.” Patrick said, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and David could tell it was because he was both genuinely encouraging, and because he was a big dork about entrepeneurialship. Which was… okay, it was cute. Patrick was _very_ cute. And nice. Patrick was a nice person. And for a moment, David wondered what it would be like, to be nice. To be around nice people. Maybe it would be good? Being with Patrick now was very nice. 

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s just a big risk… _financially_ , and if I lose what I have now, I’ll have nothing.” David said eventually, letting out his biggest anxiety: _money._ He felt terrified to lose the small nest egg he’d gotten when the Blouse Barn had won their settlement against Australian Blouse Barn. Knowing he had it helped soothe a lot of terrifying thoughts, of not being able to afford basic things like food or shelter or even department store designer brands like Calvin Klein or Ralph Lauren. 

“Okay, but hear me out.” Patrick replied, calmly and reasonably. David looked at him, and nodded, more than willing to hear out anything Patrick had to say. Their bodies were turned towards each other, their tv monitors long forgotten. “Your concern is valid. But have you considered the opposite? What if you make this big financial risk… and it pays off?” he paused, letting his last point hang there. Allowing David to picture it in his mind. He did, and it was _beautiful._

“But 20% of small businesses fail in their first year, and 50% by their fifth--” David countered, spewing out the easily googled facts and figures, trying to bring those lofty hopes and bright shiny visions of the future back to reality for just a minute. He couldn’t let himself get too caught up in the emotion, he had to be logical. 

Yes, he could see the store in his mind, when he closed his eyes. Yes, he thought he had figured out a business model that could really work and thrive in a small community like Schitt’s Creek. Yes, he had already decided on a sand and stone colour palette for the store’s aesthetic. But what if he put the work in, spent the money, created what he’d seen in his dreams all these long months since he’d squandered his first opportunity… and still failed? It was almost too much to bear thinking about. 

But then again, what if Patrick was right? What if he _succeeded?_ David had spent so much time and energy thinking of all the ways he would fail, all the ways this could blow up in his face, that had forgotten to imagine what would happen if the store actually thrived. 

Across from him, Patrick watched the emotions cross David’s face, and David had the uncomfortable feeling that he understood them all. That he could _read_ him, even already. It was weird, but also wonderful. He had never felt so _seen._

“You know, David.” He started, and _oh_ , David liked hearing his name come from those lips. “I do this for a living. I’ve seen a lot of businesses start up, and I’ve seen some succeed and some fail. At first, I didn’t really understand why some of them didn’t make it, and why others did. On paper, some seemed _sure_ to succeed. They had everything they needed, the runway funds, the business model, the market research, even a great logo or brand name. But do you know what the difference was, what I eventually saw that I didn’t notice at first because it wasn’t quantifiable, it wasn’t numbers I could put onto a spreadsheet, so I overlooked it. But when I look back on all those businesses that succeeded, they all had it. And many of the ones who didn’t make it, a lot of them were lacking it. Do you know what it is?”

“No.” David replied. He had no idea, and all he wanted was for Patrick to keep talking. He was enraptured, with his words, his earnesty, his passion. As he spoke, he’d been looking right into David’s eyes, and possibly, into his soul. 

“It was _fire_ , David. And you have it. You have so much of it, and I can see it as plain as day. If you do this, you _will_ succeed, because you have the passion, the fire. I almost wish I lived closer. This is the kind of business I’d like to be a part of, if you needed a business manager. But Toronto is probably a bit far. Also, I guess I can’t just hire myself, anyways. You’d have to want me.” He joked, chuckling a little and bowing his head. 

“Oh, I want you.” David blurted out, his eyes widening in horror before the words were even fully out of his mouth. “As, as a business manager. If you were closer. Which you’re not. So it doesn’t matter.” He hastily added, trying to cover up that pretty major freudian slip. And as he panicked about that, his brain seemed to click into panic mode and thought up another thing to worry about. _Did David need a business manager? Why hadn’t he thought of that!?_

“Yeah,” Patrick chuckled nervously. “You probably already have somebody, anyways.” He added, and David felt himself blanch. 

“I actually didn’t even know that was something I needed, until just now, so…” He replied, his brain bouncing from one terrified thought to the next, like a firecracker trapped in a small space. And Patrick must have felt David’s panic, because for the first time since before takeoff, Patrick’s hand reached out and covered David’s arm in support. It was warm, and soothing, and instantly helped to calm the riot in David’s head. 

“You can call me.” Patrick blurted out, his voice catching on the word ‘call’, the word coming out hoarse. He cleared his throat afterwards, before continuing. “Any time. About the business. Or, anything… But I can help you with the business stuff, until you, uh, can find someone--” But his words were cut off by an enormous shaking of the plane. They must have hit a huge pocket of turbulence, by the way the plane had so suddenly and dramatically lurched. If they’d had drinks, they’d have been everywhere. 

But David wasn’t worried about the turbulence, or the state of the passengers drinks after it. He was more concerned about _Patrick._ His hand had still been on David’s arm, when it happened, and it had tightened so quickly and so strongly, that David was sure he’d have a hand-shaped bruise afterwards. But he didn’t care, not in the least. Especially considering how little he wore anything that didn’t have a long sleeve. _Especially_ during winter. 

“What the fuck was that!?” Patrick blurted out, and even though David hadn’t known him long, it still stuck out as uncharacteristic, to hear him swear like that, and he _knew_ Patrick was scared. David’s left hand found Patrick’s that was still gripping his right forearm, and held it in support. All around him, the people in the airplane murmured, a few shouting out, as Patrick had. 

“It’s okay, it was just--” David tried to calm him, when they hit another, equally bad but much longer patch of turbulence. And David had to admit, it was _bad._

“Oh God!” Patrick muttered, obviously trying to stop himself from shouting, as his fingers dug further into David’s arm. Above them, the seatbelt light lit up, but they hadn’t removed theirs, so there was nothing for David or Patrick to do. And suddenly, the pilot came on the cabin speakers. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we ask at this time that you observe the overhead sign and fasten your seatbelts. We have run into a small patch of turbulence on the outskirts of a pattern of inclement weather to our east. We will be altering our fight path to avoid the weather, travelling northwest over Arizona before heading back east over the prairies. Your new estimated time of arrival is currently 2:15. In the meantime, please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened while the lights are lit, we will turn them off as soon as it is safe to do so.”

“Shit, did he just say we aren’t safe?” Patrick said beside him, and David pouted briefly in sympathy, and he hand he’d placed over Patrick’s began to stroke soothing little circles onto Patrick’s overwarm skin. 

“No, just that it’s not safe to get up and walk around. Because you could fall. Don’t worry, it’s just turbulence. The plane is fine. It feels scary, but I promise this has happened to me so many times.” David said, not wanting to play up just how high this rated on his “scary plane rides” list. And it was high. 

The plane lurched again, bouncing up and down violently, and it felt like they were rag dolls being shaken about. “Holy Shit, oh my God.” Patrick said from next to him, his voice sounding high pitched and terrified. Throughout the cabin, a few people screamed, and up ahead, a baby was crying. Even David had to admit it was frightening. “David--” Patrick suddenly said, groping with his free hand to intertwine his fingers with the hand David had placed over his left. 

“It’s going to be alright.” David said, trying to convince himself as much as Patrick, as the plane shook again and again. He gripped the hand Patrick had placed in his like it was a lifeline, his other arm still pinned in place against the armrest. 

“David, I--” Patrick started, cutting himself off as the plane lurched again. 

“Shh, shh it’s okay.” David said, trying to feel the calm inside that he was trying to portray on the outside. “We’re going to be just fine.” He said softly, soothingly, and he turned his head sideways, to look into Patrick’s eyes. Patrick looked right back at him, and they felt anchored together, connected. After that, Patrick was quieter. Their connection would break, when they’d be shaken around by the turbulence, but they’d always find each others’ eyes once again. And though David felt the fear and tension radiating off of him, Patrick seemed calmer. They helped each other through. And when the pilot came on the intercom once again to announce that they were making an emergency landing in Tucson, well, they helped each other through that too. 

Apparently, the massive storm front had moved unexpectedly to the west and right into the flightpath of their plane. They’d had to land right in the middle of it, as rain and hail poured down from the sky, and winds ripped. David had been so relieved when they’d finally touched down, that he’d almost leaned forward to kiss Patrick. But he’d held off with his last shred of self control, just to be pulled into Patrick’s arms, completely enveloped in a relief-soaked bear hug. Well, and a bit of sweat-soaked, mixed in with the relief, too. But David wasn’t going to complain. In fact, he didn’t totally hate Patrick’s musk, if he was being honest with himself. Though he’d never admit that to anyone else, because it was disgusting. But still… kinda hot. 

“Holy _Fuck,_ David!” Patrick shouted into the crook of David’s neck and shoulder, his voice muffled and exalted as he pulled him in tight, his voice giving away just how much stress he had let go, and how quickly. He sounded incredulous that they were alive, let alone okay. Like he’d really thought they were about to die. Poor button. David had been scared too, but he’d never really thought anything bad would happen to them. Or at least, not really. Okay, maybe once or twice the thought may have _crossed his mind_. 

But they’d made it, and that was all that mattered. And now they were in… Tucson. In December. In the middle of a storm. David didn’t know how long they’d be there, how long it would take for the storm to pass and they could take off again. But he couldn’t help but think that maybe, despite all the frightening dramatics of their flight so far, that maybe he’d just been given a bit of a gift, by the universe. The gift of more time with Patrick. 

David smiled into the hug, and pulled Patrick closer, breathing him in as he did. And Patrick squeezed him closer in return, his face still buried against David’s skin, his breath hot. Eventually, though, they’d had to reluctantly pull apart, and David was left feeling bereft of his touch, and instantly craved more. Patrick had looked at him for a few seconds, with these wide, unfathomable eyes that shone with innocence and longing (at least, that was what it looked like to David), and David had practically sighed in response. “So… we’re alive. And in _Tucson_.” David said eventually, feeling like he needed to say something, and Patrick chuckled. 

“It would appear that way.” He agreed, and he smiled shyly back at David and bit his lip, looking like he was working something out in his head. David waited patiently for him to figure out whatever it was he was thinking over, and eventually, Patrick added, “Hey, do you want to hang out together? You know, while we’re laid over.” He asked, and his earnest and nervous delivery completely charmed David, as if he could be charmed any further than he’d already been. 

“Are you saying you want to get laid over with me?” David asked in response, teasing, and enjoyed the blush that rose on Patrick’s cheeks as he smiled bashfully in response, his dimples popping.

“No, I mean-- I don’t-- I mean--” He floundered, and David laughed. 

“I’m teasing. I’d love to hang out with you. I don’t know what else I’d do. In fact, I’d be a little mad if you _didn’t_ want to hang out with me.” He replied, and Patrick beamed back at him in response.

“Okay then.” He agreed, and David smiled back at him.

“Okay then.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Patrick had never felt better than he had, those first few steps back on solid ground, after departing the plane with David. Well, actually that was a lie, that hug they’d shared just minutes ago was better. Much better, actually. It had lit something up inside him, and made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt before. And maybe that was just the near death experience and the aftermath of landing safely, but Patrick thought that hug had more to do with it than anything else. 

The way they’d clung to each other, breathing each other in, for long moments or minutes truly had sparked something in Patrick, and he’d never felt so _right_. It was like something inside him had clicked into place, and he wanted to catalogue and store every second of it into his memory, so he could relive it in the future, after he’d been forced to let David go his separate way. 

He wanted to remember everything, the feel of him, the smell of him, how it felt to have a man - _this man_ \- in his arms, all solid and warm. He’d hugged men before, of course. But never like _that._ He thought about the soft short hair Patrick’s fingers had found on the back of David’s neck, as he cradled his head and held him close, and the hot breath he’d felt on his shoulder. He thought of the way he’d pressed his lips against David’s neck, but held off from kissing him, despite how much he had wanted to.

And _damn_ did he want to. 

He knew that he and David lived in different places, were from different worlds. He knew he’d have to be saying goodbye soon, far sooner than he wanted to think about, in fact. And he knew that, well, he’d never _done_ this before. _With a guy._ But _fuck_ , did Patrick want to kiss David Rose. And now that he’d survived what had essentially been certain death, Patrick felt like he had this second chance in life. A life where anything was possible. 

So why couldn’t he kiss him?

Patrick smiled to himself, as he thought about it, how he could make it happen, and then David interrupted his thoughts. “Well _I_ could use a drink. What about you?” He asked, and Patrick had to shake his head to get the image of them kissing out of his head, before replying.

“Yeah, I feel like my whole body is vibrating with adrenaline still. I could definitely use a drink. What time is it?” He asked, and David shook his head and rolled his eyes slightly.

“Who cares? Let’s _go._ ” He replied, and as he finished, his eyes shone and his smile tightened and pulled to the side, and then David grabbed Patrick’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the nearest bar in the terminal. And Patrick let himself be pulled, just hoping that David didn’t let go. 

There were only a couple places to get food at all in the small airport, and only one served alcohol. But despite it being only 10:23 in the morning, they’d been lucky enough to find it was open and they’d been allowed to order a sample platter of appetizers with their drinks. David had been particularly excited about the mozzarella sticks. They’d each ordered a drink, Patrick an extra large draught PBR and David a Vodka cranberry, and then they’d also asked for four shots of tequila. The waitress had smiled, likely thinking of her climbing tip, and told them she’d be right back. 

“I’m really looking forward to that drink.” David said a little anxiously from across the small table, and he seemed too far away for Patrick’s liking, but also it was nice to have this opportunity to look at him, straight on. He was so gorgeous it was kind of hard to think of words to say, when all he wanted to do was drink in the man before him. 

“Yeah. That was… intense.” He finally agreed, his happy/anxious ratio spiking momentarily towards the anxious side, as a flashback of the terrifying landing played through his mind. He felt his heart begin to pound as the image of the shaking cabin, lights flickering, appeared before his open eyes. But then he blinked, and it was only David, and he was safe on solid ground… with David. And the panic instantly ebbed and was replaced with the excitement and happiness he felt to be here, on this date, with David. 

If this _was_ a date, that is. He didn’t know what David thought of him, or whatever _this_ was. But it felt like a date, to Patrick. So he was going with to treat it like one. Because he was alive, and he wanted it to be a date so why not. 

Before long, the waitress was back with their drinks, and they’d both immediately taken long draughts from their respective beverages the second she’d placed them on the table. David had sighed deeply in relief between his first and second sip, and Patrick thought he might have as well. He instantly felt his nerves calm, and a smile spread on his face. “That’s better.” He said, and David smiled and nodded across from him.

“Mmhm, yeah.” He agreed, before taking another long sip. His glass was already half empty, and Patrick turned to see the waitress not too far away. They made eye contact, and he smiled sympathetically.

“Excuse me, could we each get another round, when you get a chance?” He asked.

“Sure thing, sweetheart, I’ll be right over.” She replied, and he turned back to David and his now three-quarters empty glass. 

“Ordered another round just in the knick of time, I see.” He said, nodding at David’s drink, and he smiled and shrugged. 

“Stressful situations make me thirsty.” He replied, and something about the way he said it made Patrick chuckle.

“That’s fair. Me too, actually.” He answered, and took another long drink from his beer. Slowly but surely, that uncomfortable buzzing hum of adrenaline seemed to be going away. What _wouldn’t_ go away, though, was the ever-present nervous fluttering in his stomach and chest. That was _all David’s influence,_ and Patrick thought that as long as he was around, that feeling probably wouldn’t go away. 

David glanced down at the four shots on the table, and then up at Patrick. His eyes shone with mischief as he smirked at him. “Shall we?” He asked, and there was something about the husky, seductive timbre in his voice, but he felt a blush rise up his neck and into his cheeks, and he nodded jerkily in reply. 

“Yes. We shall.” He agreed, and reached quickly for a shot, hoping to distract David from what a colossal dork he was acting like, and hoping the tequila would give him just a little bit of confidence and cool. He didn’t know if that was possible, but he just _really_ wanted to impress David, for some reason. He knew they would have to part, at the end of this storm. He knew that this was just a day, just _one_ day together, and then they’d probably never see each other again. But Patrick wanted to make it _count._ He wanted David to _like_ him.

And he already knew he wanted David to be his first kiss. Well, his first kiss… _with a guy._ Which honestly counted even more than the real first one, in his mind. And he just _really_ wanted David to want that too. 

Across from him, David had licked a spot on his hand behind his thumb (it was _very_ hot) and poured salt onto it, and Patrick quickly followed suit. He hadn’t really drank tequila since college, and he’d almost forgotten. When they were both ready, he held up his glass. 

“Well, cheers to not dying?” He suggested, and David huffed a small laugh and nodded, lifting his own glass in return. 

“Yes, cheers to not dying. And… to finding each other.” David added quickly, almost nervously, if his ducked head and red cheeks were any indication. And it was like an electric jolt to Patrick’s heart and he felt a smile spread from ear to ear in response. 

“To finding each other.” He echoed, the words coming out softer than he’d planned, and then he lifted his salted thumb to his mouth before tilting his head back and downing the shot. He eyed the bowl of limes, as the after effects of the alcohol burned in his mouth and throat, but David didn’t move to take one, so he didn’t either. Immediately, he felt the effects of the alcohol, like it was shot straight into his bloodstream. “Holllly shit, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of _those_.” He said, when he thought he could talk without coughing, and David laughed. 

“You’re cute.” He replied simply, and Patrick bit his lip and felt his entire face heat up. Had David really said that? What did he mean by it? Could that be just a friendly thing, or did it mean that he liked him _like that?_

“Thanks? I think?” He replied, embarrassed but so, _so_ pleased. 

David was just opening his mouth to reply when the waitress returned with their platter of appetizers, and Patrick had the pleasure of seeing David’s eyes light up with what looked like pure joy. He didn’t think he’d even looked that happy when they’d landed, safe and alive. Patrick had only known David a couple hours now, but he’d already heard him talk lovingly about food on several occasions. But this had been his first opportunity to witness it first hand. And it was… adorable. He smiled as he watched David dig in, reaching immediately for a mozzarella stick and humming with delight as he bit into it, a long string of cheese stretching out as he pulled the rest away from his mouth, which he quickly gathered up in his mouth, before biting it off.

“Good?” Patrick asked rhetorically, the answer being obvious, if judging by the noises David was making. David nodded and hummed. 

“Mmhm, ve-wy” He replied, covering his full mouth with his hand. Patrick chuckled. 

“Good.” He replied, before reaching for another mozarella stick. He wanted to have at least one, before David ate them all. He smiled as he saw David’s eyes follow his hand as he grabbed one of the 3 remaining, and took it back towards himself. It was almost like he could _hear_ David’s thoughts, and he found that so _amusing._ “Oh sorry, did you want this? There’s two more.” He said, and held back a laugh at David’s face, trying to keep his own in a deadpan for as long as he could pull off. 

“What? No, that’s- that would be crazy. I…” But then he trailed off, and Patrick laughed as he took a big bite, stretching the cheese out purposely in a show for David, and David’s eyes never left the mozzarella stick. 

“You’re right, that would be crazy.” Patrick agreed, though gently, and he smiled. “But you can have the other two, if you want.” He added, looking over at David for his reaction, which didn’t disappoint. It was like he’d given him a diamond or a car or something, not a deep fried frozen piece of breaded cheese. And Patrick felt it, just then, this feeling from deep inside, that his feelings for David were real, and much, much deeper than they should be, for being in the situation they were in. And that was a lot to handle, knowing they were going to be parting in a matter of hours, so Patrick suggested they take the other shots. 

And things began to devolve from there. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Eventually, they’d been too full and too drunk to justify staying in the restaurant any longer, and David had stumbled out into the bright Tucson airport terminal, holding onto Patrick’s arm and leaning on him for support. They’d been there for _hours,_ just talking and laughing, and if David wasn’t crazy, _flirting._ And they’d had a lot to drink, possibly a little too much, if David was being honest with himself. More than all the fried dough in the world could soak up. 

But he couldn’t help it. At first, he’d needed to take the edge off, after that terrifying flight and landing, and to settle his nerves about that and about being around Patrick, knowing how much he liked him, and wanted him to like him in return. But soon, it was just that he was having _fun,_ as uncommon an event as that was in his recent life. And the drinks just sort of started flowing. 

It was kind of crazy, how much he was liking this guy. Even completely intoxicated, David knew that. And there was something really _weird_ about the whole thing. David wasn’t really religious, and he didn’t believe in fate or destiny, or whatever you wanted to call it. Yes, maybe he’d been sucked into buying some crystals from Spencer Pratt back in the late 2000s, but he’d never really gone in on all that mystical stuff. 

But something about this, felt like fate. He would never, ever dare say this out loud, not even completely drunk, but… meeting Patrick felt _important._ It felt like it was meant to happen. It felt like it should have already happened, long ago. Like somehow, he and Patrick were meant to be together. But that was stupid. So he kept it to himself. 

  
  


After their time (and many drinks) spent at the restaurant, any remaining walls between he and Patrick seemed to have been broken down. David still couldn’t tell if it was just platonic for Patrick or not, but they’d found a level of comfort and familiarity that should have been impossible for two people that had only met earlier that day, let alone if one of those people were David Rose. But it was good. It _felt_ good. To relax around someone. To let his guard down. To have _fun._

And they _were_ having fun. David didn’t seem to be able to stop laughing, and neither did Patrick, as they stumbled around the airport terminal together. Outside, the storm still raged with no signs of letting up any time soon. Inside, an intoxicated David hoped it never would. And for now, it seemed like they had nothing but time, so the two of them decided kill some of it by seeing everything the two small departure terminals of the Tucson airport had to show. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot. But what else were they supposed to do?

“These decorations are much better than the ones in Cabo, they may be garish and tacky, but at least they have a unified and cohesive aesthetic.” David noted, as they passed another festive cactus. It wore a santa hat, a red scarf, and was strung with coloured lights. There were more like it, around the terminal, and the accompanying accents around did maintain that ‘Christmas in the desert’ sort of look.

“I bet your store is going to look so great, you really seem to know what you like.” Patrick replied, surprising David and making him smile. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone, he wasn’t teasing like he was so often wont to do. He was being completely earnest and honest, and he said it so _casually,_ like it wasn’t one of the most important compliments David had ever received. Because it wasn’t just that it was a nice thing to hear, it was that it was what David _needed_ to hear. It was the way Patrick seemed so sure the General Store would be his, it was his confidence in David’s ability to create something like that, to make up his mind and settle on good decisions. 

David was completely touched and if he was being honest, a little choked up, and he didn’t want to cry, because crying made his eyes puffy. And that was _not_ a good look on him. So David said “Thank you, Patrick.” as unemotionally as he was capable, and quickly changed the subject. To distract himself from thoughts of the store, or his future, David tried to focus on the present, and he set his mind to trying to figure out if Patrick _like_ liked him or not, and whether this day might include a make-out session in the Tucson airport at some point. 

At that point, he thought it could still go both ways. Sometimes he thought Patrick might be flirting with him, but then he just never made a move. And he seemed to react to _David’s_ moves in the most confusing way, too. Like, he _seemed_ to be into it, but if he was, then why weren’t they in some dark corner right now, getting to know each others’ tongues? 

Together, they looked at overpriced watches and jewelry at a kiosk. As they browsed, David told him what his mother and sister would think of each piece. Patrick shared a story of being gifted his Grandfather’s watch and then losing it, and then spending all his savings on a replica he found on ebay, only for his Dad to spot it as a fake immediately. The original watch eventually turned up, when his best friend Roger’s mom moved their basement couch to clean the baseboards, but now Patrick was too afraid to wear it anywhere, and kept it in a box at home. He said that was one of the things he would bring with him, when he eventually has to go back home to collect his things to bring to Toronto. 

David loved learning about Patrick. He loved his voice, loved the way he spoke, loved the way his eyes always flicked back to his own, connecting, like this story was for David and David alone. He also loved when Patrick would tease him, which was weird. David did not, as a rule, generally enjoy being the butt of jokes. And yet Patrick was relentless, and David was loving it. But that was probably because at the heart of all of his little jibes was an obvious undercurrent of kindness and affection. And it was also obvious that Patrick thought he was very funny, and David found that sort of cute, and he certainly didn’t want to burst that bubble, or discourage him in any way.

In the gift shop, their hands brushed, twice. The first time, David had gotten a secret thrill out of it, but thought it to be a happy accident. The second time? He started to wonder. They’d been looking at a display of tiles painted with sugar skulls, and Patrick pointed out that some of the sugar skull couples depicted were same sex, and when he’d put his hand back down, it had very distinctly brushed past David’s. And from the way a blush seemed to rise up his neck, David seriously wondered if it might have been on purpose.

But at the same time, if Patrick wanted to make a move, why wasn’t he just doing it? These accidental-on-purpose hand brushes were a seventh-grader’s idea of making a move, not a grown-ass sexy man's. And yet, bizarrely, David found the innocence and sweetness of it all so, so refreshing. Whatever this was, friendship or something more, David was into it. It was everything he never knew he wanted or needed in his life, and he just kept forcing himself not to think of the passing of time, bringing them closer and closer to being torn apart forever. 

In the gift shop, they bought some (non-alcoholic) drinks and snacks, and David saved Patrick from making a very ill-informed decision to purchase a University of Arizona sweater. “Seriously, you didn’t even _go_ there, you aren’t even _in Arizona by choice.”_ David had laughed as he’d taken the offending garment from Patrick’s hand and placing it back on the rack. 

When they were done, they took their food and went to find a relatively empty spot close to their gate to sit down and maybe watch something on Patrick’s tablet. At that point, close to four o’clock, most of the other flights had been cancelled, so their gate was really the only one with many people, with all the stranded travellers forced to do nothing other than wait to be told when they’d be leaving to head back to Toronto. 

David and Patrick sat in the waiting area for the next gate, still close enough to see and hear everything going on in gate 7, but with a little bit more privacy. Which David was okay with. When they were settled and had placed their carry-ons on either side of themselves, effectively creating a barrier between them and anyone that could come and sit down next to them, Patrick pulled out his tablet. 

“What do you want to watch?” Patrick asked as David adjusted in his seat to get more comfortable. 

“I’m partial to any Sandra Bullock vehicle, your choice.” David replied, generously, but regretted his decision immediately when Patrick looked thoughtful and then smirked.

“Like Demolition Man?” He asked, and David furrowed his brows and shook his head in reply.

“No, _not_ like Demolition Man.” He replied in horror, and then thinking to himself, added “And don’t you dare say _Speed 2: Cruise Control_ next, or I’m going to revoke your movie choosing privileges.” He looked at Patrick seriously as he delivered his warning, and Patrick laughed. 

“David, you’ve told me I am allowed to choose ‘a Sandra Bullock vehicle’ and my first one was wrong. That’s hardly what I’d call movie choosing privileges.” He replied, and David raised one brow at him.

“Are you saying you’d rather I pick?” He asked, and Patrick shook his head and tried to hold back his smile.

“No, no, I think-- I think I better--” He was already scrolling through the options. In the end, he settled on _28 Days,_ and David approved, so they got set up and started the movie. To avoid playing the volume out loud, they were sharing a set of headphones, and had to sit quite close (a very happy coincidence), and before long, David found himself leaning his head against Patrick’s shoulder, and looping his arm through Patricks’ and holding him tight. Maybe the residual effects of the alcohol had something to do with it, but whatever it was that gave him the confidence, David was very happy with it. 

It was _everything_ to be that close to him, to feel his warmth, and just be comforted by his physical presence like that. A couple times, Patrick laid his cheek against David’s head, and he didn’t even mind that his hair was probably getting ruined, because this was the best day of his life. And he didn’t even care if that was dramatic or over the top, or even if it was really true. Because this feeling was everything he’d gone to Mexico looking for, even if it had happened mostly in Tucson, Arizona and not a beach in Cabo. He was… _at peace._ For the first time in as long as he could remember. Maybe ever. And Patrick had given that to him. David knew he didn’t want to let him go at the end of this, and hugged his arm tighter. Patrick sort of snuggled back in response, getting closer so that David was more comfortable. David sighed in contentment. 

  
  
  
  
  


David fell asleep very quickly for someone who claimed to love the movie, but Patrick didn’t mind. Because he had fallen asleep _on_ Patrick, and Patrick was _very_ okay with it. Extremely okay, in fact. He especially didn’t mind how David’s hand had moved to wrap around Patrick’s midsection as he nuzzled in and slept soundly. He didn’t even wake when the movie had ended and Patrick had started the next one (Speed, a Sandra Bullock vehicle, just in case David woke up while it was on). But that made sense, David had had a long day. And he’d had a _lot_ to drink, and a lot of fried food to eat. 

It was hard to control the impulse to bend down and kiss the top of his head as it leaned against him, so instead, he adjusted himself a little, careful not to wake David, to make himself a more comfortable pillow for him. And as David slept, and the movie played, Patrick had time to _think._

Mostly, he thought about David. About how much he liked him, and how much he wished a future for them could be possible. And then he started thinking crazy things, like _how_ to make that future possible. And then he started thinking absolutely insane things, like how he and David felt like something out of a storybook, and that maybe a possible future with him was worth doing something crazy for. Was worth risking everything for. 

But no… they hadn’t even kissed. They hadn’t done anything more than two friends would do, really. That wasn’t something that was worth throwing everything away for. Patrick didn’t _do_ things like that. He didn’t take massive risks like that. He preferred safe bets. And who was to say that David was even interested? Maybe he was just a flirty kind of person? What Patrick felt for David was… immense, and overwhelming, and extremely intimidating. It felt like love at first sight, and if it wasn’t, it was an immense fondness beyond anything Patrick had experienced before or was prepared for. What Patrick was feeling was insane and unprecedented.

It would be even _more_ insane to expect David to feel the same way. 

So Patrick worked on controlling whatever the hell was happening inside him. His attention seemed to oscillate in and out between the movie and thinking about David, with a few interruptions to look out the window at the storm, and to crane his neck to see the television monitor with updates about the flight. His eyes scanned down the list until he found their flight, and sure enough, beside it in big bold letters it read ‘DELAYED’. He tried not to smile, knowing how much grief this must be causing many other passengers of the plane, what with their plans being so utterly destroyed by this unforeseen event. 

But Patrick _loved_ it, and he never wanted it to end. 

However, as Speed ended, and he noticed the day was getting somewhat late, Patrick was getting a little concerned. It was almost 8 o’clock, and they still needed to fly back to Toronto, _and then David had to drive all that way home…_

And then Patrick forgot everything he was thinking about for a little while, as he thought about that problem. David couldn’t drive that far so late, it wasn’t safe. He’d be liable to kill himself or hit a deer or something, driving alone at that time of night, when he was bound to be tired. Maybe he should stay at Patrick’s place for the night, just to be smart. There was no sense paying for a hotel room when Patrick already had one. Then David could leave in the morning when the sun was up, and Patrick wouldn’t be worried that he’d crashed in a ditch somewhere. It was the smart thing to do. Nothing had to happen, Patrick wouldn’t try anything. It would just… be the smart thing to do. For safety.

Patrick sat in silence for a while after the movie ended, just looking around and watching the time pass on the LED clock display on the wall. Eventually though, as much as he loved the feeling of David sleeping against him, he was starting to feel antsy. He wanted to know what was going on, it had been far too long since he’d gotten an update. The alcohol had all but worn off, and he was starting to get a little tired himself. He’d found himself wanting to rest his head against David’s, just for a minute, and maybe let himself drift off for a minute or two. But the control freak inside him didn’t want to miss an announcement or boarding call. And he was getting a little worried that the seating arrangement wouldn’t be the same when they _did_ board again, so he wanted to talk to somebody about that.

Very carefully (and regretfully), he removed himself from David’s iron grip, and David settled a little awkwardly without him, but fell right back to sleep nonetheless, snoring ever-so-softly. Patrick smiled as he got up successfully, and looked down at David, before turning to go to the nearest customer service desk for Air Canada, which wasn’t too far away from where they were sitting. 

“Hi, excuse me, I’m sorry for bothering you--” Patrick started, walking up to the gentleman and lady behind the counter, who smiled back at him with practiced courtesy. 

“How can I help you sir?” The man asked, and Patrick looked at him and smiled apologetically. 

“Yeah, I was on the flight to Toronto that got grounded, and I was just wondering if there are any updates? Also, I was wondering if the seating plan will be the same? I want to make sure my friend and I--” he gestured to David, sleeping peacefully not far away, and then looked back at the customer service agents. “I want to make sure we are still sitting together, on the way back.” When he was done, Patrick fought the impulse to be embarrassed, and ignored the blush he felt rising up his neck and into his cheeks, as he waited for their response. 

Across from him, the woman smiled. “Of course, sir. May I see your tickets?” She asked, and Patrick’s eyes widened.

“Oh, uhh, hold on, can I come right back?” He asked, and she smiled.

“Not a problem.” She assured him, and he turned to jog back over to where David was sleeping. He smiled to see him, and then frowned at the thought of waking him. But there was no other option, so he perched on the seat next to David, and then gently began to shake him, one hand on a shoulder, the other on his bicep. “David, hey-hey David.” He said, no louder than a whisper, trying to wake him from his sleeping state in as gentle a way as possible. 

“Mmrrawwrgg” David protested, and Patrick chuckled, getting the impression that David was not an easy person to wake up. 

“Hey David, where’s your ticket? I need it.” He whispered, his face close to David’s and his hand still on his bicep.

“Mmmside pocket.” He mumbled, not even opening his eyes, his one hand vaguely flailing in the direction of his carry-on bag. Patrick smiled, and then followed David’s instructions, quickly finding his boarding pass folded up in an Air Canada envelope. He also found David’s passport, and frowned at how easily David was giving him access to it, but left it alone and zipped the pocket back up before returning to the customer service counter, both of their tickets in hand. 

“Here you go.” He said, handing the pair of boarding passes over to the counter agent, and she smiled as she took them, and nodded at David. 

“You guys are sweet.” She said, shocking Patrick and leaving him with no idea of what to say. He should correct her, he thought, though he also loved hearing it, loved the idea of it, and he didn’t know why he had to deny it. So he didn’t confirm _or_ deny it. She could think what she thought, Patrick didn’t care. 

“Oh, uhh-- heh…” He stammered, and she just smiled and tapped away at her keyboard, referencing the tickets every few seconds. After a short while, she must have been done because she looked up at him and smiled before holding the tickets out to him. 

“All set, sir.” She said, and he smiled back at her. “We’ll make sure you’re seated together on the flight, whenever that is.” 

“And you have no idea when that might be?” He asked, making sure, and her smile turned apologetic. 

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know. But as soon as we have an update, we will tell you.” She said, and Patrick nodded, before saying thank you once more, and then turned to head back to David. 

When he got there, Patrick settled in to the seat next to David, who instantly wrapped his arms around him, his head finding his shoulder like it belonged there. He was mostly still asleep, and made the cutest little noises as he got settled back down. Once in place, Patrick thought about what he could do. Should he watch a movie? Read a book on his phone? Listen to music? But even as he contemplated what to do, his eyes began to droop. And it wasn’t long before his head was leaning against David’s, and he was fast asleep. 

  
  


They were awakened an hour later, by the same customer service agent from before. “Excuse me, sirs?” She said, gently. And then, less gently. “Sirs? Excuse me, you are on the grounded flight to Toronto? Flight 213?” She asked, and Patrick cracked an eye. Oh shit, he must have fallen asleep. He looked at the clock, and his vision was blurry but he could still make out that it was past 9pm. 

“M’sorry.” He said, wiping at his eyes with his free arm (David had the other) and shook his head a little. Beside him, David was slowing waking up as well, and he moved off Patrick a little, giving him the chance to sit up and look at the woman properly. “Sorry, yeah. We are, is there news?” He asked, and she looked a little sheepish. 

“Unfortunately, the storm has caused the flight to be delayed until tomorrow at 10:15 in the morning. We have arranged for accomodations for you at the nearby Airport Hyatt, and you can take this taxi chit to get there.” She replied, and he felt his face fall. Overnight? He had a day’s buffer before he had to start at work, so he should be fine. But still… 

He said goodbye to his plans to insist David stayed at his place, not that he’d have ever had the guts to do something like that anyways. And he tried to take solace in the fact that he’d be able to extend this - _whatever this was-_ with David out for another day. And that couldn’t be anything but a good thing. So he turned his shocked expression into a smile and looked back at her. 

“Thanks, do you need anything from us--?” He asked, not knowing what kind of information they’d need in order to set up the sleeping accommodations. 

“No, I got it all from your tickets when you came to the booth earlier, and I’d seen you were sleeping so I decided not to disturb you and to take the liberty to set them up myself. I hope that’s okay?” She asked, and from beside him, David spoke up for the first time in hours since falling asleep. 

“Thank you, that’s great. And if you give me your name and badge number, I’m more than happy to leave a positive Yelp review.” He said, and Patrick chuckled. 

“You really love your sleep, eh?” He asked, turning from the woman to look at David for a moment. David shrugged and smirked back at him. 

“You don’t get this beautiful without a lot of beauty rest.” He said, with more than a little hint of self deprecation, and Patrick laughed, before looking back up at the agent. 

“Yeah, that’s great.” He echoed, and she smiled.

“Great!” She said, and then held out a package of documents that had been printed off, and he saw the Hyatt logo on one of them. “Here is everything you’ll need, and the taxi chit. Just take it out front, and give it to any driver, and ask them to take you to the Airport Hyatt.” She added, and he smiled and took the package. 

“Thank you very much.” David said from beside him, and Patrick quickly added a ‘yeah, thanks’ before the agent was gone and it was just him and David again. The silence felt awkward for all of two seconds, before David spoke. 

“Let’s get out of here, I’m so tired, and as comfortable as you are to sleep on, I need a bed.” David said, and Patrick chuckled, trying to hide the blush that once again was climbing up his neck and cheeks 

“Yeah, let’s get to the hotel.” He agreed, and they began to gather their things. As they walked, Patrick turned to David. “You want to share a cab, right?” He asked, a little nervously, but that would quickly prove unnecessary when David rolled his eyes and gave him the most scathing ‘ _obviously_ ’ look Patrick had ever seen. 

“Duh, Patrick.” He replied, and Patrick laughed. 

  
  


The cab ride was quiet, and wasn’t going to take very long, as the Hotel wasn’t overly far from the airport, and Patrick was very aware of how little time he had left. Soon, the taxi would pull up outside the hotel, and their day would be done. They’d check into their rooms and it would be all over. Sure, they’d see each other tomorrow, but what if the magic was gone? What if sleeping on it made David realize he could do way better than some confused 30 year-old that had never even been with a man before? 

Patrick had to do something, he had to _say_ something, but the cab driver was _right there._ Patrick looked at him before biting his lip and looking nervously back at David. And then he did something he’d never thought he’d have the courage to do. He took a deep breath, and reached out and covered David’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers together and brushing his thumb against his knuckles, as if to remove any shadow of doubt over what he was doing. 

Beside him, David’s eyes had widened before a smile had spread over his face and twisted to the side, and his obvious happiness let a knot inside Patrick unravel. It was so relieving, he literally sighed, and David laughed softly in reply. And then, for a few minutes, they sat in silence, holding hands, both of their thumbs brushing gently back and forth. And Patrick had never been happier, though he knew that happiness wasn’t destined to last long. He could see the hotel up ahead, they were almost there. 

As the cab pulled to a stop, Patrick squeezed David’s hand, and his eyes found the other man’s, and he tried to speak with them. To tell him everything he was thinking, everything he was feeling. How he didn’t want to let go.

But he had to, so reluctantly, he let go of David’s warm hand, and missed it immediately. “Can we… talk? For a minute? Before we go in.” He asked, his voice hushed and hoarse. Beside him, David smiled shyly and nodded his head. 

“We can talk for as long as you want.” He replied, and there was something about the way he said it, Patrick couldn’t help it, he bit his lip to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear. Then, in an attempt to stop himself from doing something _really_ embarrassing, he turned away from David and made his way out of the car, attempting to control his racing heart and ragged breathing before he had to do this thing with David. 

And he _did_ have to do it, he owed it to himself, and to David, and to this amazing connection they had between them. He needed to tell David how he felt, and if he was brave enough, he wanted to kiss him. Even if they never saw each other again, Patrick knew that David was special, David was the one. He was meant to be his first real kiss. Now all Patrick had to do was make it happen. 

And he was so, so nervous. And so, so excited. 

A minute later, they’d retrieved their bags and Patrick had given the chit to the taxi driver, and he was on his way. Slowly, Patrick turned around and found David, standing there and biting his own lip, his dimples popping. Patrick took a step closer, closer than would be polite, if they hadn’t just spent the last several hours on top of each other. David took a deep breath and let it out shakily, still smiling tightly in that crooked way he did. Patrick followed suit, taking a deep breath of his own. 

“David--” Patrick started, right as David said “Patrick--”. As they interrupted each other, they both stopped, looked at the other, and laughed. The tension now broken, Patrick smiled and continued. “Sorry, mind if I--?” David rushed to nod his agreement.

“Yes, of course, go ahead please.” David replied, biting his lips between his teeth as if to stop himself from saying anything else. And Patrick smirked, charmed by David once again.

“Please?” He asked, teasing him just slightly at his formality, and David rolled his eyes. 

“Manners are never impolite, Patrick. Now… you were saying?” Patrick’s smirk threatened to take over his whole face, so he held it back, feeling his smile tighten and his own dimples were likely showing. 

“Sure, sure.” He agreed, trying to make his face stern and thoughtful. Then it softened, as he realized they’d beaten around the bush long enough. Besides, they were standing outside the main entrance of a busy airport Hyatt, and it couldn’t be warmer than 5C, David looked cold. This wasn’t the ideal place or time for this conversation, but it was his only option, and he needed to stop wasting time. He took one more calming, steadying breath, and looked David in the eye. 

“David, I had a really good time today.” He said softly, and he had more to say but he seemed to have gotten stuck on those words, at how insignificant they sounded, compared to what today had really meant to him. But across from him, David didn’t seem to mind, because he smiled softly and replied.

“Yeah, so did I.” He said, still trying to hold his smile back, looking nervous but happy. And so, so cute. Patrick smiled to hear that he’d had a good time as well. 

“And I guess… I mean, we’re about to go in there, and we’ll check into our separate rooms, and the day is going to be over. And I know it’s crazy, I know we live hours away from each other and after tomorrow, we’re probably never going to see each other again. But I just don’t know if I could live with myself, if I didn’t--” Patrick said, speaking quickly and nervously and from the heart, but then he paused, and his eye connection with David turned even more intense, more heated. 

“What?” David asked, breathless. But he knew. Patrick took another step forward, closing most of the remaining distance between them. Then he lifted his hand and gently cupped the back of David’s neck, feeling the soft, short hairs there once again. With his hand, he guided David’s head forward, gently, and tilted his own slightly upwards to meet him, pausing when their lips were mere centimeters apart. 

“This.” He whispered, and then closed the scant remaining distance. And there were no choirs of angels singing, but Patrick thought there should have been, the kiss was _that_ good, _that,_ magical. 

It was soft at first. For a long while, they both seemed content just to feel their lips against one another’s, and breathe each other in. David’s arms wrapped around Patrick’s waist, one hand climbing up his back as it went on, until it found Patrick’s hair. The moment Patrick had felt David’s cool fingers on the back of his neck, his lips had unwittingly parted, and David had immediately followed suit. 

For another long moment, they kissed like that, their lips playing softly against one another’s. But eventually, Patrick needed more, and he tentatively let his tongue into the kiss, and David enthusiastically reciprocated, sighing contentedly into his mouth, his hand on the back of Patrick’s head pulling him closer. 

And so they kissed, they kissed like they might never have the chance again. And truly they might not, so Patrick never wanted to stop. Because nothing before, and maybe nothing again, had ever felt so goddamned _right_ before. The _actual_ butterflies he felt, the _attraction_ he had towards David… He’d never felt this way before, not for Rachel, not once. Kissing David Rose was a revelation, a complete and utter game changer. And it was just so fucking _good._

Patrick moaned softly into the kiss, and his fingers slid up through David’s soft short hair until it got longer, and then he squeezed it between them and tugged ever so slightly. He was rewarded with a deep rumbly ‘Mmm’ from David, and Patrick smiled though never stopped kissing. He didn’t ever want to stop kissing him ever again. So he didn’t.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Holy fuck, I think he’s gonna kiss me._ That had been the last thing David had thought before his mind had gone blank, and then there was only Patrick. They were standing literally in front of the main entrance to a busy airport hotel, several people had passed them already and they were on full display for the entire front desk, but David could not care less. He was in no rush to push Patrick away. Not when he was experiencing the best fucking kiss he’d ever had in his {redacted} years of life. 

David had _never_ been kissed like that before. Not even close. Never so sweetly, or so _thoroughly._ Patrick was firm but soft, tentative and yet somehow still insistent. To this point in life, almost all kisses David had shared had been quickly followed by some sort of sex act, like kissing was some necessary transaction in order to get to an orgasm. But despite being sexy as hell, Patrick wasn’t pushing them to a sexual place at all. No, he wasn’t grinding against him or sticking his hand down his pants, nothing like that. He was just _kissing_ him, and David had never been kissed just to kiss before, he supposed. And… it was really nice.

But eventually, it had to end. Neither of them seemed to be happy about it, though, and they stayed in each others arms, exchanging small kisses and grinning like idiots, for some time. When a new taxi pulled up near them, though, they finally stepped apart, 

“That was…” Patrick said eventually, pausing as if searching his mind for the right words, looking honestly a little shell-shocked. David bit his lip, hoping it had been as good for Patrick as it had been for him. 

“Amazing? Transcendent?” David supplied, hiding his sincere question behind a veil of humour. At David’s words, Patrick’s expression changed from one that looked full of wonder, to a deadpan, and he shrugged.

“It was alright.” He replied, looking bored, and David furrowed his brows.

“Excuse me, tell that to all the little noises you were making!” He retorted, slapping Patrick on the arm playfully, who laughed and half heartedly tried to dodge him. Patrick was blushing, and was trying hard to hold back a smile that so clearly wanted to escape.

“I mean, it was _fine--”_ He started, but then David pushed his arm again, and he started to laugh and his smile broke free.

“Yeah, David.” He said, finally being serious, and his eyes bore holes into David’s. “I’d say transcendent was a pretty good word.” He added hoarsely, and David thought he might literally swoon. Seriously, what would happen if he passed out right now? He was still a little low on oxygen, after that sexy non-sexual makeout session, it was a legitimate concern. 

“Oh.” David said, not knowing what else to say, and smiled as Patrick stepped back into his space, and wrapped his hands around David’s waist. 

“I just--” He started, stopping short and biting his lip, and then raised his eyes to look into David’s. “I just thought it might sound dumb if I told you that was the best kiss of my life. And I really wish we didn’t have to go inside right now, and go home tomorrow, and I really don’t want to never see you again.” He said, his wide eyes never leaving David’s as he spoke, and as he did, David’s felt the strangest impulse to _cry._ But as a rule, David _didn’t_ cry, so he tried to move past it by focusing on the truly beautiful things Patrick had just said to him. He paused for a moment before responding, to center himself. He looked up and away from Patrick, his hands fluttering as he did, and then when he was ready, he looked back down at the gorgeous man before him. 

“Okay, I will not cry right now because my under eye serum was foolishly packed away in my checked luggage and I refuse to let you see me with puffy eyes.” David started, and Patrick smiled at him, looking at David in a way no one ever really had before. _Like he cares,_ David thought incredulously, before continuing. “But,” he finally added, “I just want to say that that is possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Patrick’s smile widened to show teeth. 

“It’s true, David.” He said, and another wave of emotion crashed over David. 

“Okay!” He said, trying to cut off the tsunami of feelings that for some reason was threatening to drown him, and stepped away from Patrick. “Okay, well obviously I feel the same, but I think if we keep talking out here, I’m definitely going to cry, so…” Patrick chuckled at that and took a hold of David’s carry-on, as well as his own, and prepared to head inside.

“Can we talk in the morning, David?” He asked seriously, and David looked at him, his smile tightening and twisting, his dimples deepening. 

“If you still want to sit next to me on the plane tomorrow after sleeping on it tonight, then we can talk all the way back to Toronto.” David answered, and Patrick scrunched his eyes at him, smiling in a confused way.

“Why would I not want to sit next to you tomorrow?” He asked, and David grimaced.

“Overnight is usually when the _regret_ sets in, so…”

“David, I’m not going to regret this. I’m not _ever_ going to regret this.” Patrick said quickly, not letting David get any further. David bit his lip and looked at him, before smiling sadly. 

“Good.” Was all he said, before looking back towards the lobby. As he did, he made eye contact with a desk agent that had obviously been watching them, and she quickly turned her head away when she saw she’d been caught. “We should probably go in…” He said, and Patrick nodded.

“Yeah,” He agreed, adjusting his grip on the handles of the bags he was carrying. “But David, I’m not going to regret it.” He added, startling a smile out of David, and made him feel just a little better, a little less sure that Patrick was going to wake up in the morning and request a seat change for the flight home. 

  
  
  


When they arrived at the desk, of _course_ the only desk agent available was the one he’d caught staring at them a moment earlier. Although, he could hardly blame her. If he was in her position, he’d probably have gone the extra step to pop some popcorn and then done the exact same thing. 

Being the gentleman he was, Patrick allowed David to go first, and the young desk agent, who actually seemed lovely and was named Krista, helped check him in without much incident. He told her he was fine with the king, he didn’t need 2 queens. She told him the room policies and informed him of the various services and amenities the hotel offered. Everything was very standard. When he was done, though, she’d asked him “Just the two room keys? Or do you need more?” which had been very odd, and he’d quirked one brow before responding.

“No, just the two is fine.” He said, before taking the folded package from her. When he was done, he stepped aside so that Patrick could check in, and David waited, looking out over the modest lobby, hoping that they’d be on the same floor and could go up together. When Patrick stepped up to the counter, however, Krista seemed very confused.

“Is everything alright, sir?” She asked, which was weird, and David turned towards them. 

“Umm, yeah, I just need to check into my room?” He said, his voice turning up at the end in question. 

“Yes, you’re all set to go in room 813, Mr… Brewer, right?” She replied, and okay, _what?_ Had David heard that right?

“Uh, yeah, that’s me, but I think there’s been some mistake. Wasn’t that the room number David was in?” He asked, and now _very_ interested, David studied Krista’s face as he waited for a response. She looked… concerned. 

“Are you… not… It says here that you’re sharing a room…” She said, staring at her computer screen and typing as she spoke. And David froze, and felt his mouth hang open in shock. 

_Did she just say--?_

“I’m sorry, did you just say-- are we--” Patrick gestured to David and then back at himself. “Why--why would you have us sharing a room?” He asked, and David heard the edge of panic in his voice. On David’s behalf, he thought he might still be too shocked to be able to take stock of his emotions at that moment, but one that was unmistakably there was hope, and another was excitement. Another was extreme nervousness, however, and that was pretty much winning out in terms of dominance. 

Patrick didn’t seem happy, he seemed nervous too. It was too fast, he didn’t want to share a room with David. It was too fast. With an effort of will, David forced himself not to think about all the one night stands he’d had before. They had accounted for the vast majority of his life’s total sexual encounters, and all of those people had been fine with sharing a bed on the first night. Although, they were almost always gone by morning, and if they weren’t, David was. They didn’t have breakfast the next day and then take a 4 hour flight together. Maybe Patrick didn’t want to share so that tomorrow wouldn’t be totally awkward? Because just a few minutes ago, David could have _sworn_ Patrick was into him, but now he was starting to worry. 

Across the desk, Krista was furiously typing on her keyboard, her eyes darting back and forth as she read the screen. “The airline sent the information, did you not request it with them?”

“The airline? I--” Patrick started, but then he stopped, and froze. Like something suddenly made sense to him, but David didn’t know what that could possibly be. Had Patrick requested they share a room? If he had, why did he seem so upset about it now? In the silence, Krista frowned at the screen.

“I’m so sorry, sir. It’s just they sent the room assignments, and then I saw-- are you not-- I’m so sorry sir I’m just a little confused… are you not together?” She asked, a little unprofessionally in David’s opinion, and instantly David’s eyes snapped to Patrick’s face. It was turning redder by the second, and he looked… embarrassed? Sheepish? Bashful? David didn’t quite know, but he didn’t see regret, or denial, so that made him feel a little better.

“Us? We? Uh, well, uh, we just met today, actually…” Patrick replied, stammering and tripping over his words a little. And David knew he should be horrified by the entire situation, but he couldn’t help the little smile that pulled at his lips as he took in the shy happiness on Patrick’s face as he said those words. He didn’t look ashamed, he didn’t deny that they’d just been making out in plain sight for the last 5 or 10 minutes. He just looked a little shy about sharing a room with someone on the first day. 

David wanted to smack himself on the forehead for not considering the fact that Patrick was a sweet innocent angel, not one of the one night stand sleazebags from David’s past, and of course this would be his problem with the room arrangement. Patrick was the kind of guy that would probably like to hold hands for long walks on the beach, and do sensible things like taking it slow at the start of a relationship. Patrick was a _nice_ guy. Probably nicer than David deserved, which was why it made so much sense that they weren’t from the same place and couldn’t be together long term. The universe would never provide a guy like Patrick for David, he simply wasn't _good_ enough to deserve him.

Across from him, Krista blushed as well, and then frowned. “I’m so sorry, there’s a big convention tomorrow, and with the holiday season, we are totally booked up. I can call a nearby hotel and see if they have any rooms? There’s a Hilton just down the street.” She offered, and okay, David couldn’t stay quiet any longer. He’d been trying to stay out of it, to let Patrick handle it, but he just _couldn’t_ let Patrick leave this hotel.

“I mean…” David cut in, and both Krista and Patrick looked at him, unmistakable hope in both of their eyes. He looked at Patrick, took in his wide eyed, lost boy look, and smiled shyly. “Would it be so bad? We could share. I mean… if you want to.” He added, wanting to give Patrick an out. Patrick bit his lip and looked thoughtful before turning back to Krista. 

“Yeah, let’s just…” He started, and fumbled as he tried to find the words he was looking for. “Let’s just leave it as is, we can share.” He added, and at the word _share_ , he turned his head to look right into David’s eyes, and David felt his dick twitch, it was so fucking _hot._ How could someone go from so nervous and innocent to so _goddamned sexy_ so fast? David felt pinned in place, and he swallowed harshly, and eventually forced himself to turn and smile at Krista, because she was saying goodbye. And suddenly, it was time to go. Upstairs. To the room they would be sharing together. 

  
  
  


They were quiet the whole way to the elevator, and when they got there someone was waiting, and rode up with them the entire way to the eighth floor, so they didn’t get a chance to speak until they were basically at the door to their room. “So… here we are.” David observed, as he saw the placard on the wall and they came to a stop. He opened the folder in his hand and got out the room key, inserting it into the slot on the door handle once, twice, three infuriating times until the green light finally lit, and they were allowed inside. 

David placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, but then held the door just barely ajar, and looked at Patrick, almost for permission. At least, for a reaction. And what he found was Patrick biting his lip and looking nervous but _happy_ , and it set his insides squirming with nerves and anticipation. “Yeah. Here we are.” Patrick agreed, and his eyes found David’s and he smiled this sexy fucking smile and David wanted to melt on the spot, but instead he turned the handle the rest of the way and pushed his way inside

The hotel room was average in every way, and dominated by one gigantic king size bed with a crisp white comforter. David walked towards it slowly, as if the bed might jump out to bite him, and wheeled his carry-on bag to rest against the wall. Behind him, Patrick closed the door gently, and locked both the door and the barlock. David wondered if he’d put the ‘do not disturb’ sign onto the knob outside, but didn’t think asking was a good idea. 

There wasn’t really anywhere to go, so when David got to the end of the bed, he stopped and turned around to face Patrick, who was entering the room very slowly, and very obviously staring at the bed. “So…” David started, trying to get the conversation ball rolling again, but not knowing what to say. They’d been talking without problems all day, they’d shared so many personal stories and felt so _intimate,_ but suddenly it was as if David couldn’t think of a single thing to say _._ It was almost weird to be feeling so awkward now, though David supposed it was to be expected, what with the very unusual circumstances. 

“So.” Patrick finally said, echoing him and pulling his gaze from the bed and up to meet David’s. And the second their eyes met, it was like fireworks. Or any other cliche David could come up with, it was all of them combined, the connection was so intense and so _palpable._ David swallowed harshly and watched as Patrick did the same, and then wetted his lips, biting down on his full lower lip gently before releasing it. They were alone now, behind closed and locked doors. They were standing in front of a gigantic, soft bed. And they both knew it. 

Before David could make a move, Patrick quickly stepped forward into his space and kissed him, hard and yet infinitely soft. His hands reached up to cup David’s face and as his lips pressed against David’s, Patrick breathed in harshly through his nose. And then his lips were parting and his tongue boldly claimed David’s mouth. And David let him, he _more_ than let him. He _wanted him._ And he gave himself up to the kiss of a lifetime. 

And it was _everything._ But far too soon, Patrick pulled away. He didn’t move to step away, though, and stayed right there in front of him, and looked into David’s eyes as his chest heaved and he worked to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his lips shiny and swollen pink, and David didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful. Once again, he was struck by the insanity of all this. The raw emotion inside of him was almost overwhelming, as he looked back into Patrick’s amber-brown eyes. And that just wasn’t normal for David. He didn’t get attached to people easily, and it _never_ happened quickly. Why was Patrick so different?

But he didn’t have long to ponder that thought, because Patrick had been studying _his_ face, too, and he was ready to speak. “Wow.” He said simply, to start, and he smiled up at David almost incredulously. And David couldn’t help but smile back, because for one of the first times in his entire life, he felt completely happy. Sure, this was going to hurt like _hell_ when it was over. But for now, they were together, and for some reason, together felt _so_ right. 

“Yeah, wow.” David agreed, and Patrick smiled. 

“So David…” He started, but then stopped, and impatiently, David cut in.

“Yes?” He asked, trying to urge Patrick to continue. For a moment, a look of concern flashed across his face, or maybe it was nerves, because once again he bit his lip, which was a bit of a problem because now _David_ wanted to bite that lip, too. But instead, he stood in place and waited for Patrick to continue.

“So I was thinking…” He said, and David tried to suppress his smile.

“Oh?” He asked, and Patrick smiled shyly and ducked his head, though his eye contact remained. 

“Uh huh.” He confirmed, and bit his lip yet again, still looking up at David with these wide unfathomable eyes. 

“About anything interesting?” David asked, still trying to control the smile on his face, and he took the hands that were on Patrick’s shoulders and plucked at the fabric there, straightening his shirt nervously. Patrick smirked. 

“Yeah, actually.” Patrick started, and this time David stayed quiet, and waited, his hands trailing down Patrick’s arms only to be captured in his own hands. And then, once they were connected, he continued. “I was thinking that I know this is crazy. I know that we’re from different places and you have a whole life and it’s not in Toronto, and that probably means that we can’t be together, and may never even see each other again.” He said quickly, and David felt a panging ache in his heart, as he thought about a future without Patrick. But Patrick wasn’t done.

“But I was kind of hoping that we could forget all that, just for tonight. Maybe we could pretend like none of that’s true, and it could be like anything was possible, and that we’re _each other’s._ Just for one day. Because I like you, David. And I want more than just a random hook up with you, I want a lot more, but I know I can’t have it. And I don’t want to think about that right now. So can you do that for me? Can you pretend to be mine, just for tonight? And I’ll be yours.” 

When he was done, he just looked at David, who was left speechless, his mouth gaping open and his eyes burning with tears that wanted to fall. He was overcome, overwhelmed. Noone had ever wanted David to be _theirs_ before, not even for one night, and all he could think was “ _Yes.”_ David said, his voice breaking on the word. And then they were kissing again, except this time, it was hotter. More desperate. They panted as their hands roamed and grasped and pulled and caressed. 

Patrick was an _amazing_ kisser. His lips were so soft, and he gave just the right amount of tongue, and he made these hungry little noises that drove David wild. He was so good in fact, that David had been enjoying himself so much that he’d been caught off guard when suddenly, Patrick was thrusting his clothed erection against David’s. His hips rolled and suddenly it became abundantly clear that despite being as sweet as a button, that Patrick wasn’t _entirely_ innocent. Which David was _very_ okay with, albeit a little surprised. He ground his hips forward to meet Patrick’s in response, and together they moaned at the heavenly feel of it. 

Patrick deepened the kiss, nipping at David’s lips occasionally, or ducking his head to kiss and suck and bite down Davids’ neck or just behind his ear, causing chills of pleasure to run all through David’s body. “I want you so bad.” David felt more than heard Patrick say against the sensitive skin of his throat, and he groaned with sheer desire and a little bit of frustration. Because _so did he._ David wanted Patrick so bad, it was insane. 

“ _Yes,”_ He panted, and felt Patrick smile against his throat before his mouth was back onto David’s. Only this time, his hands slid down to David’s ass, and he squeezed, and pulled David’s hips forward, towards his. He ground himself forward twice before he began to steer them towards the bed. When the back of David’s knees had hit the edge, Patrick pushed David down and then climbed on top of him. 

“You’re mine, just for tonight?” He asked, clarifying, after he’d sat his perfect ass right over David’s erection and ground his hips in a circle. David groaned and nodded his head raggedly. 

“ _Yes, Patrick._ ” He replied, breathless, and then suddenly Patrick frowned. 

“I don’t want it to be just for tonight.” He said, and then David frowned too, before he smiled up at him, although sadly.

“Let’s pretend it isn’t, then.” David replied, and Patrick smiled sadly in return, and then leaned down to kiss David again. And that was the end of talking, for a while. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_IT WILL NEVER GET BETTER THAN THIS._

That was the only thing playing through Patrick’s mind, as he ground his hips against David, _feeling him,_ his hands getting to touch whatever skin he wanted. They’d shed their shirts and pants pretty quickly, after deciding to say yes to being each other’s for the night. And it had been nothing but pure bliss ever since.

And it was _such_ a relief. Because as much as he didn’t like to admit it, a part of Patrick had still held out a bit of doubt, as to his sexuality. Even despite how clearly into David he was, a small part of him had almost expected to feel weird, or _not quite right_ , when he finally got to this stage. Like it had with Rachel, and those other couple girls he’d disappointed. He’d been almost wondering for a while, whether he just might not be all that into sex at all.

But nothing about what he and David were doing, almost naked and alone on a luxurious hotel bed, was wrong. _Nothing._ In fact, it was so, so, right that Patrick was a little worried he wouldn’t last. That he might finish before they’d even really gotten started. And that wouldn’t do. Because he only had David for one night, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, and there was no time for going slow. Patrick wanted it _all_ , he wanted to experience all his firsts… and he wanted to do that with David. 

_If I can’t keep him, at least he will always be my first,_ Patrick thought, as his fingers played through the thick dark hair that peppered David’s surprisingly toned chest and they kissed languidly. David was on his back, and Patrick was sort of half on top, half on his side, with one leg draped over David’s hips. He could feel David’s impressive hard length against him, and he made sure to rub against it as much as he could, as he instinctively bucked his hips against David’s side. 

He _loved_ David’s chest, and he couldn’t get enough of it. It was so broad and flat, and the wiry hairs there just felt so _good_ under his fingertips, or against his lips. He loved the way it would tickle his cheek or his nose, when he would dip down to capture one of David’s nipples in his mouth. Everything about David was just so incredibly _sexy_ , but Patrick especially liked touching his chest.

_Although_ , he thought, _there was still one place he hadn’t touched yet._ Maybe he might like that more? He smiled into his kiss as he thought about it, and worked up the nerve, slowly sliding his hand down from his chest to the waistline of David’s designer white boxer briefs. He pulled away from the kiss for a moment to look into David’s dark eyes, which were even darker right now, with wide blown pupils and a hungry, lustful look to them. 

“Can I?” He asked, and slipped his fingers just barely under the elastic, to illustrate what he was asking. David bit his lip and nodded his head.

“Mmhm, yeah, that would be-- that would be good.” He replied, and then they were kissing again. And slowly, his heart pounding, Patrick’s hand inched down until at first just his fingertips found David’s hard cock, so warm and velvety soft, despite being so, so hard. David shuddered in what seemed like pleasure, and Patrick smiled, feeling a little more confident, so he slid his fingers around, and grasped David in his hand. And then sighed along with David, at how _good_ it felt. His face lit up in a wonderstruck smile, and he pulled away just for a second so he could look down and see it. 

The waistband was kind of getting in the way, so David shimmied them down a little, and Patrick was left speechless at what he saw. It was _David’s perfect cock, hard and pink and leaking, in *his* hand._ He almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Eventually, he realized he should be _doing something,_ and he pumped his loose fist once, experimentally, and then looked up as David’s head fell back, his eyes closed as he moaned softly in pleasure. Patrick smiled and tightened his fist a little, and pumped again, and then again, and focused not climaxing himself, with every little noise that David made. 

Quickly, he found that he was _very into this,_ and his dry fist just wasn’t going to suffice. So he regretfully removed his hand so he could spit into it, and as he did, David moaned and Patrick chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him. In reply, David smiled playfully and shrugged. “What? That was hot.” He said, and Patrick smiled as he wrapped his now slick palm back around David’s perfect cock, and effectively shut him up for a little while longer. 

As Patrick lay, watching everything from David’s face to watching his own hand pump up and down on David’s slick pink cock, completely enraptured with everything he was seeing, he began to think. At first, all he could think about was how _hot_ David was, or how much he _liked_ this, or how good it felt, to make David feel good. But soon, his brain started wanting _more._ They were running out of time, and Patrick wanted _everything._

“David,” he started, breathily, trying to work up the nerve to continue. 

“Mmm?” David asked back, wordlessly, his eyes clearing of their blissful haze and finding Patrick’s. Patrick swallowed, taking stock of his rapidly beating heart, and butterflies in his stomach, and prepared to say what he’d been thinking. 

“I was-- I don’t know what you prefer, and I honestly don’t have much experience with it, but I was hoping--” Patrick started, and then paused, feeling the panic swell up inside him. But David just kept looking at him, waiting, so he had to continue. _Fuck it,_ he thought, his need finally overcoming years of repression and nerves. “David, will you fuck me?” He finally said, letting the words drop like anvils between them. 

David took a deep breath, as soon as he realized what Patrick was asking, and immediately bit his lip to control his smile, and he calmly nodded his head. “I can do that.” He said softly, before leaning forward to kiss Patrick briefly, and then pulled back and made a face. “But I hope you have lube and condoms, because I guess I just wasn’t planning on getting laid --over, or otherwise-- on the way back to Toronto, so all of mine is in my checked luggage.” 

Patrick smiled, a little embarrassed, and laughed. Because he actually _did_ have both of those things. He’d gone to Cabo in hopes of maybe letting loose, and finding his first gay experience. That was part of why he went so far away, and braved the flying, which Patrick hated. Because he’d wanted some anonymous hookup he could run away from when he was done. Experiment, see how it felt, and then disappear. 

But then he hadn’t gotten up the nerve, and he’d gotten sick, and it just hadn’t happened. It hadn’t even come _close_ to happening. Until he met David, that was. For some reason, everything was different with David. Patrick didn’t want just a hookup with him, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to disappear afterwards. He wanted more, probably more than David could give him. He wanted _romance,_ he wanted _feelings._

It was why he’d insisted on this silly little roleplay, as if they could be each other’s for just one night. But he’d wanted what this was, to be more than just some torrid affair. He needed it to be more. And _why_ he needed it to be more was a complete mystery to him. Why was David, out of all the people he’d ever met in his entire life, the first one to unlock whatever this was, inside of him? Why did _David_ make Patrick feel like anything was possible and that everything was going to be okay? Because everything _wasn’t_ going to be okay. He was going to leave him! He had to! They’d been doomed from the start. And it was almost too painful to think about, so Patrick decided not to. He decided to think about what he could do to make tonight special, to remember it forever. 

And feeling David’s perfect cock inside of him felt pretty damn special. 

“Hold on.” He said, before he scrambled off the bed and over to his carry-on bag where he retrieved the little bottle and foil packet that were tucked neatly into the side pocket. The bottle was mostly full, although he’d used a little by himself, during his trip. He may not have gotten up the nerve to experiment with others, but he’d been experimenting a little, from the comfort and solitude of his own room. 

When he had what he needed, he turned around and paused before climbing back onto the bed. He looked down, seeing that he was still wearing his blue Jockeys, and then bit his lip and slid them off. He looked to David then, whose eyes were bright as he took in Patrick's decently lengthed though very girthy hard cock. He looked pleased, which made Patrick pleased, and he smiled and climbed up onto the bed, crawling forward until he was laying down right next to David, facing him, their bodies touching. Patrick’s now free erection fell to the side, resting against both his leg and touching David’s as well, and he couldn’t help himself from thrusting forward, just a little. 

“ _Fuck,_ you’re gorgeous.” David said reverently, when Patrick was next to him and able to look him in the eyes again, and then kissed him, hard and without tongue, and then pulled back. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Patrick replied, doing his best to wink at David, although he was terrible at winking. David laughed, which was nice, and then Patrick looked down at the condom and lube in his hand. He placed the condom on the bed next to him, but kept the lube, until David took it from him. 

“You’re sure about this?” David asked, looking down at the bottle, then Patrick’s now unclothed erection, before looking back up into his eyes. And Patrick nodded, because he’d never been more sure about anything before in his entire life. _Except…_

“Yeah, I’m definitely sure, David.” He started, his voice low and rough and serious. “Except…” And he paused, working up the courage to say what he _really_ wanted. But there was something about David that just made Patrick want to crack open his ribs and expose his vulnerable beating heart to him. And so, he did. “I don’t actually want you to fuck me.” He said quickly, and then at the disappointed look that flashed across David’s face, Patrick frowned and reached up to cup his cheek in his hand, running his thumb over his lips.

“No, I do, but I-- I just don’t want it to be--” Patrick chuckled ruefully and shook his head. “I don’t know how to say this, David. Because I want you… like that. Right now, tonight. But I don’t want it to be--” Patrick sighed. “I don’t know, it’s stupid But I don’t want you to _fuck_ me, David. I want you to _make love to me._ ” He said, sounding almost frustrated, although the frustration was entirely aimed at himself. And then he scowled, having heard the words that just came out of his mouth. “I know it sounds gross. But I don’t know how else to say it. I want more, with you, David. I want to make love with you. I want _you_ to make love _with me._ I don’t want it to just be fucking.” He said, the words finally tumbling free, and when he was done he held his breath and studied David’s face. 

“You’re right, it does sound gross.” He said, eventually, but he wasn’t serious, he was teasing, and Patrick laughed, and then scowled.

“Shut up.” He said, teasing back, and David’s smile broke through briefly before being bitten back, a look of nervousness replacing it.

“It’s not gross. It’s just… weird… for me.” He started, and something in the tone of his voice made Patrick drop the teasing act, and he stayed quiet and gazed into David’s eyes, waiting patiently for him to finish his thought. “It’s just-- not many people… and I’ve been with _many_ people-- well, no one’s ever wanted anything more than that. Than fucking. But-- I can try.” He said, and he spoke softly and seriously, the shyest of smiles peeking out at the end. And Patrick’s heart clenched. _How could no one have loved this man the way he deserved?_

“Yeah?” He asked, hardly more than a whisper. David nodded, never breaking eye contact. 

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.” He agreed, and Patrick’s heart stopped clenching and began to soar. 

“Then shut up and make love to me, David.” He said, and he was _trying_ to be sexy, leaning in and pulling David in for a deep kiss the moment he’d been done speaking, but David just snorted a laugh and shook his head and pulled away.

“Ew, okay, no. I’ll do it, but let’s not _say_ it.” He replied, and Patrick smirked.

“ _Make love to me, David.”_ He teased, and enjoyed the rise this got out of him. David rolled his eyes and tried to hold back his amusement, attempting to look annoyed but failing. Patrick saw right through him. And then they were kissing, and things heated up quickly from there. 

Never in Patrick’s entire life had he ever felt so good as when David touched him for the first time. Not with Rachel, not by himself, never. David’s hands were soft and warm, and skilled. He held him so firmly, with such precision, that Patrick was brought right to the edge much too quickly. But David seemed to sense that, so he’d slowed, and removed his hand, kissing Patrick and reaching for the lube. Wordlessly, he looked at Patrick for permission. Patrick swallowed and nodded quickly, watching as David squirted a liberal amount onto his hand, slicking up his fingers. 

They adjusted themselves, so that Patrick was on his back and David knelt between his legs. He tapped the back of Patrick’s thighs, encouraging him to pull his knees up a little, and Patrick complied, his heart pounding so hard he wondered if David could hear it. Then David leaned down over him and kissed him, and his slick fingers began to caress the rim of Patrick’s hole. 

_And holy fuck it was good._ Patrick had dabbled here and there as he’d began to explore his sexuality, and there had been those couple times on the trip as he’d discovered some particularly good gay porn. So he knew he liked it, knew he was curious enough to want to try bottoming. But it _never_ felt this good, when he touched himself. This was some entirely different level shit, and already he felt himself begin to fall apart, and David had barely started. He couldn’t help himself, he moaned in pleasure, and David smiled. 

“That good?” He asked softly, and Patrick raggedly nodded his head. And then, David slipped one finger inside, just to his first knuckle, just a tease, really. And Patrick _gasped_ and pushed down against the pleasant intrusion, wanting more. David’s smile widened and he pushed the finger in further. 

“Oh my God…” Patrick moaned, as David pulled the finger out almost all the way, and then pushed it back in, even deeper than before. _“Fuck!”_ He gasped, and David smiled.

“I thought we weren’t doing that?” He asked, and Patrick rolled his eyes and reached up to grab the back of David’s head and pull him in for a silencing kiss. And it did silence both of them, except for the moans, as they continued to make out as David slowly and tenderly worked Patrick open. And Patrick knew he’d thought the same thing several times already that evening, only to be proven wrong later. But… _he had never felt so good._

Eventually, David seemed satisfied with the job he’d done, and he finally stopped ignoring Patrick’s begging pleas for more. “Are you good?” He asked, and Patrick’s head had almost flown off, he’d nodded it so quickly. 

“ _So good.”_ He said, and David smiled and looked down at him, all spread open and vulnerable. His hand moved to caress Patrick’s thigh, and then he bent down for a much more tender kiss, and for some reason, Patrick felt the breath go right out of him. When David finally pulled away, Patrick chased his lips and stole another kiss. But he had to let David go, so he could get the condom on and get ready to… _Patrick could barely even think the words._ This entire night was like some sort of wild fantasy come to life, he could hardly even believe it was really happening. 

David got the condom on quickly, and then he was getting into position above Patrick, and staring into Patrick’s eyes, looking for permission. “Are you ready?” He asked, and Patrick leaned up to kiss him once before resting his head back down against the pillow, and he nodded. 

“Yeah.” He said simply, and David bit his lip, and then he was pushing himself inside, and all Patrick could see were fireworks. It hurt, yes, but it was so much more than that. It felt like heaven, to be so full, and to know what it was that was filling him. _He felt so close to David,_ as David pushed slowly past the second ring of muscles and fully sheathed himself. “ _Fuuuccckkkk…”_ Patrick uttered, as he embraced the painful burn as well as pleasurable ecstacy of the experience. And David gave him the time he needed to adjust, as he hovered over him, unmoving. He just stared down at Patrick with the most _tender_ look, a lot of which was concern, so Patrick smiled up at him, hoping to make him feel better. 

“Good?” David asked, and Patrick nodded.

“Good.” He assured him. “You can-- you can move.” Patrick replied, and David dipped down to kiss him, softly although with tongue. And then his hips started to roll, and he pulled himself out a little, before gently pushing himself back in, and Patrick moaned in pleasure, into the kiss he was sharing with David. 

And then, they were making love. Even later, after Patrick had urged David to go harder, faster, it was never just _fucking._ And by the end, they were sweaty from exertion, beads of sweat dripping free as David’s hips snapped in again and again, _but it was never just fucking._ This was so much _more._ This was everything. A religious experience. Patrick called out David’s name again and again in reverence. 

And when David was close, he had grabbed Patrick’s cock, and the moment his fingers had wrapped around his rock hard length, he came hard, shooting hot white strings up his chest. “ _David!”_ He’d shouted, and David had immediately leaned forward to kiss him, continuing to stroke him through his orgasm. And then David’s hips were twitching, and he was coming too.

Afterwards, the two of them lay still in each other’s arms for a very long time. And all Patrick could do was think about how amazing what he had just experienced had been. It was far and away the best of his life. And he tried to force himself not to think of having to say goodbye to David tomorrow. And how it would probably never be that good, ever again. But still he smiled, because at least for now, he still had David in his arms. And wasn’t it better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all? 

That’s what they said, anyway.

  
  
  
  
  


They’d gone to sleep, not long after that, knowing they had to get up early for their flight in the morning. At this point they were only going to end up getting four or five hours of sleep, and it was unlikely either of them would sleep on the plane. Patrick hadn’t wanted the night to end, but the clock just kept insistently ticking time away, minute by minute. And he couldn’t deny he was getting tired. 

And so they had fallen asleep in each others’ arms, and woken up the same way. Patrick didn’t think he’d ever forget that feeling, to wake up with David in his arms. He thought he would probably think about it, just this one morning, long into the future. And how it was just a blissful moment in time, to be awake while David dozed against his bare chest, their arms entangled. And able to rest for just a little longer, happy and content in the silence, because he had woken before the alarm. 

But eventually, that alarm had gone off, and David had gotten up and rushed about, doing an “abbreviated version” of his morning skin care routine and getting ready. They really had to hurry, the flight left very early, and Patrick couldn’t afford to miss it. 

  
  
  


The sky was blue and the sun was shining in Tucson that morning, the storm from the previous day blown away. The air was still chilly, though it was still warm enough if you stood directly in the rays. And so, together, basking under that warm Tucson sun, David and Patrick stood in silence in one another’s arms, as they waited for their cab. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it was a sad one. Because they both knew what was coming, and neither of them felt ready to face it. And so they stood together, holding each other close, and waited until the taxi pulled up.

They’d gotten to the airport and through security in just enough time. Luckily, their seats were still next to each other, because they hadn’t gotten there early enough to have done anything about it anyways. So, with minutes to spare, the two of them arrived at their seats at the back of the plane. And this time, Patrick let David sit by the window. It’s not like Patrick wanted to look outside of a speeding metal tube flying through the air, anyways. If he sat on the aisle and there wasn’t any turbulence, he may be able to trick his brain into thinking he was just on a train or a bus or something. Or that was his reasoning, anyways. Besides, it seemed to make David happy and Patrick liked making David happy. 

When they were settled, David turned to Patrick, smiled, and took his hand. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked, and Patrick smiled back at him, sadly. 

“With the flight? Yeah. But I don’t know about when we get to Pearson and I have to say goodbye…” He replied, honestly. David frowned at him, and then leaned forward to kiss him. For a long moment, they breathed each other in, their lips pressed firmly together, and then they pulled apart. 

“I don’t want to either.” David agreed sadly, and for another long moment, neither of them knew quite what to say and so a silence stretched. But it was okay, they both knew. That what they had was special, and how hard it was going to be to give it up. Neither of them wanted to do it, and yet, was there any other option?

  
  


Takeoff had been rough for Patrick as usual, but David had helped get him through. He’d been so patient and supportive, it almost hurt Patrick even more, knowing they were flying ever closer to their ultimate demise as a couple. He almost wished David would do something _wrong,_ be a jerk _something,_ anything to make it easier to part. 

But David wasn’t perfect, and yet that didn’t seem to matter to Patrick. David didn’t have to do the right thing or say the right thing to make Patrick like him. In fact, in many of his stories he said what could be argued was the very _worst_ thing, with his jarring honesty when it came to stories from his past. And yet, Patrick’s feelings inexplicably _grew_ with every insane, terrifying story. 

They talked a lot on the way home, despite how tired they both were. Patrick was a little concerned about David, who had to drive back to Schitt’s Creek still. He had made a couple half-hearted attempts to urge David to fall asleep, suggesting that they could put on a movie and he could lean against Patrick’s arm. But he hadn’t been too convincing, because he’d selfishly not wanted David to go to sleep. Because with every passing minute, Patrick became increasingly aware of how few he had left. And David seemed to be just as aware. 

And so they held hands, they kissed occasionally (keeping things PG-13 due to the public place… apparently making out on a plane was “incorrect”), and they both kept their eyes on the clock. Patrick tried to distract himself by asking David questions about the store. David went on and on about the “sand and stone” colour pallette he envisioned (whatever that meant), and the types of product he’d like to carry. He’d even done a little initial research, and put out a few feelers with local vendors, using some sort of local cafe or restaurant as a networking point. 

Patrick had to say, it was an unusual business model that he really thought could work, with the right person working the books. And with David’s creative vision, he could see this store becoming a huge success, and he told David so. “I’m still not sure I want to put in an application. What if I fail and lose everything?” David had worried, and Patrick had taken his hand and pulled it to his lips.

“You won’t.” Patrick replied, which wasn’t everything he’d wanted to say, but it was what had come out. Because he didn’t need to explain himself, he just _knew._ David _would_ do fine. He’d do great. And that store was going to become a massive success. Patrick knew in his soul, just like he knew the sky was blue, and that water was wet. It was almost like, in another life, that store already _was_ a success. Which didn't make sense and was the strangest feeling. That same feeling had surrounded David as well, like their entire meeting was baked in the fires of fate. Patrick just wrote it off as nerves. “And my offer still stands to help. You can call me for business advice anytime. I’d like that, actually.” He added, and David smiled.

Patrick had already programmed his phone number into David’s phone, and they’d exchanged a text just to test that it worked. Patrick felt sick thinking those little text bubbles would be his only connection to David soon. And yeah, maybe they’d call each other sometimes, or even Facetime… but Patrick couldn't ask for a commitment out of David, he couldn’t ask for more when that was all they could have together. So David would be free to date, and find someone else. And so would Patrick, he supposed, though now that he’d met David he didn’t think he’d be able to be with someone else for a long time to come. But the bottom line was, eventually David would find someone, and the texts would slow down, or stop altogether. 

Patrick knew they couldn’t keep what they had long distance. Like even the sweetest of treats, it would spoil if left on the shelf too long. But that didn’t mean that Patrick wouldn’t try to be in his life for as long as he could. For whatever reason, fate had brought them together, crossed their paths in such an incredibly impactful way, and that couldn’t just be _nothing._ Nothing about what they’d shared felt like it was supposed to just be some one-and-done hookup during a layover in Tucson. What they had felt _special._

And if they couldn’t be together as a couple, then at least Patrick could help him make his dream of running this store come true. Because for whatever reason, Patrick had a _really_ good feeling about that store. Just like he had a _really_ good feeling about David. 

  
  
  


There hadn’t been any turbulence the entire way, which had been a blessing for Patrick. Landing was still hard, although less hard with David there to support him. But as those wheels hit the ground and they arrived in Toronto, if felt like an anchor attached to his heart had been dropped. And as they disembarked the plane and walked to the checked baggage area, it felt like a funeral march. 

When David had retrieved his bag (Patrick hadn’t checked one), and there was no other reason to stay, they slowly walked together to the Hertz rental car depot, both of them trying to drag out every second they could. When they got there, they stopped just outside the door. “What if I drove you to your hotel?” David suggested, trying to buy for time, and Patrick sighed and smiled sadly. 

“I’m staying downtown, that’s way out of your way. I don’t want you driving for any longer than you have to, you’re tired.” Patrick replied, and David frowned. 

“I just don’t want to say goodbye.” David sighed, and anguished himself, Patrick stepped close to him and ran his hands up David’s arms, resting to loop around his neck, and he looked into his eyes.

“Neither do I.” He replied, and it was all Patrick could do not to cry. And he almost never cried.

“Then maybe… let’s not? We both know I’m going to be texting you the second you leave, anyways. It isn’t really like saying goodbye.” David reasoned, though he didn’t sound convinced. Patrick leaned forward to gently and slowly kiss David, trying to pour all the emotion he felt in his heart into that connection, and then pulled back, pausing when he was only a few inches away from David’s face.

“You better not text me the second I leave, you’re supposed to be driving.” He warned, teasing just a little despite the despair he felt in his soul to think of David driving away from him. This didn’t feel like the parting of two people who had met only the day before. This felt like _soulmates_ , just walking away from each other. Which was _completely insane_ and Patrick knew that. And yet, he still felt as if he were being ripped in two at the thought of it. The universe had brought them together, and it had felt like some major wrong had been righted. And now they were just going to walk away from that? 

David rolled his eyes, but only for effect. Patrick could see that they were watery, and David was also trying not to cry. “I _guess_ I can wait until I get back home.” He agreed, and Patrick smiled. 

“How about this, you can call me, but only if it’s handsfree.” He offered, and his heart swelled as David smiled back at him and nodded his head.

“Deal.” He agreed, and then they were kissing, and too soon, they were apart. 

  
  
  


And despite how crazy it was, all Patrick could think as he watched David disappear behind those doors was, _there he goes, the love of my life._

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Patrick was on the 30th floor of a swanky office building on University Ave, looking down at the offer letter he’d just been handed after a long and very successful final interview. He’d charmed all of the senior executives and had some really good answers to the questions they’d posed, and by 3 o’clock, the CFO had taken Patrick aside, shaken his hand, and officially offered him the job. They’d already had the paperwork drafted up, and he brought Patrick to his office to give him the time he needed to read it over, hoping he would sign on the spot. _Expecting him to._

This job was everything Patrick had ever wanted. Reading over the offer letter, it was all there. The salary, the benefits, the _location._ He’d been wanting to move to Toronto for as long as he could remember, if not only for the business opportunities, then also for the chance to be close to his beloved sports teams. And Toronto had the trifecta of Patrick’s jock heart. Or the _hat trick,_ more like. Between this job, and the Raps, Jays, and Leafs, and endless parks to visit and places to explore, Toronto had everything Patrick had ever wanted. 

And yet, his pen hovered over the signature line, unable to make its mark. Because Toronto might have a lot, but it didn’t have _everything._ It didn’t have _David._

And suddenly, everything was clear to him. He dropped the pen and got to his feet. _Where had he left his coat again?_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It was December 22nd, the start of Hanukkah, and David had been moping around town for going on three days. And while they had been reasonably sympathetic at first, people were starting to get a little tired of it.

“You know, you were on vacation in Mexico, not Guantanamo Bay.” Stevie remarked from the cafe bar stool next to him, and David just sighed. He had already told her all about Patrick, and how he had ruined David for everyone else for the rest of his life by being so perfect, and how he would be bereft and unhappy and alone forever now, and he didn’t feel like telling her again. She already knew. He sipped at his latte miserably. 

Across from them, Twyla smiled cheerfully as she dried a coffee mug. “You know, they say the best way to mend a broken heart is to get back on the horse again.” She said brightly, and David scowled at her.

“Do they, Twyla? _Do_ they say that? Is that a saying people say?” He asked grumpily, knowing he was being a little unfair to her when she was just trying to help, but he wasn’t able to help himself. Luckily, Twyla was rarely phased by his rudeness, and her smile didn’t even flicker. It was almost as if she hadn’t processed his snark at all, and took him at face value.

“Yeah! And there’s this holiday themed singles event coming up that Alexis is throwing at the cafe, and---” But David had to cut her off. 

“Shut up!” He said suddenly, though he was speaking to the universe more than to Twyla, as he jumped to his feet. He had been looking forlornly out the festively decorated front window as she spoke, when he’d watched as someone crossed the road, heading towards the cafe. It was a man, and for some reason, he’d caught David’s attention. It had almost felt like alarm bells were sounding inside David’s head, his intuition telling him that this was… no, it couldn’t be…

“ _Patrick!”_ He shouted, despite how incorrect it was to be shouting in a public place like the cafe, as the bell rang and the door opened. He’d known even before it should have been possible to know, but now it was for sure. It was Patrick. He was _there_ , in the cafe. And David rushed towards him. 

They came together like two halves of a whole, David’s arms encircling Patrick’s neck, and Patrick’s arms around David’s waist. Patrick had been smiling, for however brief a time it was before they were kissing, again and again with closed lips. Just so, unbelievably happy to be together. David realized his eyes were filling with tears, and these ones were definitely going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it, so he just let them. But he was smiling, too, and laughing.

“ _What are you doing here?”_ He asked, sniffing and holding Patrick’s shoulders but leaning back just a little so he could see his beautiful, welcome face. Parick smiled and shrugged.

“I guess I missed you.” He replied, and David beamed and kissed him again. 

“So did I.” He said, wiping quickly at a tear that had collected at the tip of his nose, before placing his hand back on Patrick’s shoulder. He didn’t want to let go of him. Not ever again. “Are you staying at the motel? What about your new job?” He asked, just two out of the myriad questions he had running through his mind. 

Patrick smiled shyly, biting his lip. “Actually, I got a room in town. Let’s just say I had an equally interesting job opportunity that I couldn’t say no to in a quaint small town in rural Ontario. Schitt’s Creek… have you heard of it?” He asked, and David laughed softly through his tears, that he was starting to get under control.

“Rings a bell.” He replied, and Patrick smiled. But then David frowned. “You’re not talking about the store, though, right? I hope? Because it’s not even _mine,_ yet. And even if I did this, it would be so long before I could afford--” David was spiraling, but Patrick cut him off with a patient smile and a squeeze of his side. 

“Actually, a local small businessman was looking for a business manager, and allowed me to set up a freelance business consultancy out of his place, where I’m renting a room.” Patrick started, and David’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean--”

“Ray Butani? Do you know him?” Patrick asked, and David could only laugh and shake his head, and Patrick moved on. “But David…” He started, his energy shifting to one of complete seriousness. He had said it so softly, and his eyes bore holes straight into David’s, and David’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest he was so nervous and excited. 

“Yes?” He whispered back. Around them, all the patrons of the Cafe Tropical were watching them like they were an episode of Sunrise Bay, but David paid them no mind. _All_ of his attention was on Patrick at that moment. Patrick, whose wide, hopeful eyes refused to look away from his own. 

“I plan to help you make it happen. I can do that, with this job. And when your store is a success-- and I know it’s going to be a success-- I’m going to want to be a part of it. In any way I can. Same goes for you, David. I’m here now, and I don’t have to leave unless you want me to. And I want to be a part of your life, whatever that means to you. We can be anything.” Patrick said, and the tears that David had been getting under control flowed freely again and he was too choked up to speak for a moment, so he leaned forward and hugged Patrick close and laughed, despite the fact that he was crying. 

When he thought he could, David pulled back. “So you came here-- left your dream job in Toronto-- all for me?” David said, sniffing and smiling at Patrick, his arms draped over his neck. In front of him, Patrick smiled and shook his head, the hands that firmly held David’s sides squeezing just a bit. 

“No, David.” He disagreed, and then paused as he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving David’s. “I did it for _us._ ”

And David laughed as a sob escaped him, and then they were kissing again. And everything was finally right with the world. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was my first time writing in ages, I'd love to know what you thought!


End file.
